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ChapEZrj Copyright No. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






Ward Hill’s long hit had won.” Page 192. 



Ward Hill-the Senior 


EVERETT T. TOMLINSON 

U 

AUTHOR OF 

“ Ward Hill at Weston” “ Guarding the 'Border ” 

“ Tecumseh's Young 'Braves “ Three Young Continentals ” 
‘ ’ Washington 1 s Young vd ids etc. 




PHILADELPHIA 

A. J. ROWLAND— 1420 Chestnut Street 
MDCCCXCVIII 



15143 

Copyright 1898 by 
A. J. Rowland 



TWOCOfiisStCtlVED. 


jfrom tbc press of tbe 
Bmerican Baptist publication Society 



PREFACE 


A school has been very correctly termed a little 
world of itself. Within it the temptations and struggles 
and triumphs are as real as those in the larger world 
outside. They differ in form, not in character, and be- 
come for many a man the foundation upon which later 
success or failure has been built. 

It is perhaps wise for me to explain that the boys 
whose lives in the Weston school have been outlined in 
this book are 4 4 real ’ ' boys, and that every fact recorded 
actually occurred much as it has been described. If 
the results of the struggles and successes shall prove to 
be a stimulus to other boys who may be facing similar 
problems, and if the failures shall serve the purpose of 
a warning word and teach the younger readers what 
things are to be avoided and how they are to be over- 
come, the author will certainly feel well repaid for his 
labor. 

Unfolding life is ever a marvelous sight, and the in- 
terest with which we follow those who are treading now 
the paths once familiar to us never fails those still young 
in heart while old in years. 

The recently developed interest in the work and 
lives of the younger people, is one of the marvels of 
this closing century. Greater than any of the discov- 

3 


4 


PREFACE 


eries of science, nobler than any of the great move- 
ments of the times is that renewed interest in the pos- 
sibilities of the young life all about us, undeveloped it 
is true, but filled with the promise of power. 

So many times our eyes are opened when it is too 
late to behold the vision. We may preach, and warn, 
and urge, and exhort, and scold, but nothing will take 
the place of actual experience. It is natural for each 
young heart to wish to learn and test life for itself. 

However, I am not without hope, that the friend- 
ship and sympathy for Ward Hill and his friends may 
not be entirely without their unspoken lessons, and that 
before my readers there may arise for each one the 
vision of the man who is yet to be. 

When all our platitudes are ignored or forgotten it is 
still true that .youth is the seed-sowing time, and what 
a man sows, as well as the measure of his sowing, deter- 
mines the character and the abundance of the harvest 
he will reap. We do well, then, to strive at least to 
scatter the seed at the time when the seed can be sown. 
The soils may vary, the seed is the same. 

I trust that the interest, the pride, the sorrow, and 
pleasure which the writer has felt, as he has followed 
the courses of these boys, may in a degree, at least, be 
shared by his readers, and also may not be entirely 
without their effects in inspiring a desire to profit by 
their examples. 

Everett T. Tomlinson. 

Elizabeth, N. J. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Waiting 7 

II. Ward Hill’s Decision 17 

III. Mr. Crane’s Examination . . 27 

IV. A Call for Help 38 

V. A Warning 48 

VI. The Beginning of the Struggle .... 59 

VII. The Troubles are Increased 70 

VIII. Perplexity 81 

IX. An Interview with Jack 93 

X. The Scene in Ripley’s Room 104 

XI. Jack Hobart’s Project 115 

XII. Mr. Crane’s Words 126 

XIII. A Faithful Friend 138 

XIV. Ward Humbles Himself 149 

XV. Outside Lessons 160 

XVI. The Beginning of the Great Game . .171 

XVII. The End of the Great Game 182 

XVIII. A Puzzling Question 193 

XIX. Jack’s Sermon 204 

5 


6 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XX. Down West Hill 215 

XXI. The Arrow and the Swallow 226 

XXII. The Mishap of the Arrow 237 

XXIII. The Investigation 249 

XXIV. Unexpected Visitors 261 

XXV. An Alarm 272 

XXVI. A Discussion 283 

XXVII. Over the Ice to Smithville 294 

XXVIII. The Mishap near “The Rock” .... 306 

XXIX. Tim Pickard’s Last Speech 317 

XXX. A Day on the Mountains 328 

XXXI. Jack Hobart’s Proposition 340 

XXXII. Conclusion 350 


WARD HILL-THE SENIOR 


CHAPTER I 

WAITING 

T HE little station at Rockford was the scene of the 
customary bustle and stir which appear in most 
country villages just before the arrival of the “ afternoon 
train.” The village idlers were assembled for the little 
break which came in the dull routine of the day. The 
shrill whistle of the approaching locomotive always 
brought a slight thrill in the hearts of these stolid watch- 
ers, as if something of the stir of the great region beyond 
their horizon was coming, if but for a moment ; and 
when the train departed, so long as the cloud of smoke 
and dust remained behind it, it served to quicken the 
dull minds by the suggestions of the possibilities that 
lay in that unknown world so far away. 

Doubtless the village idlers (the busy people of the 
little town had another term by which they called them) 
never realized that it was their imaginations to which 
the arrival of the morning and afternoon trains appealed, 
and yet it was that very faculty which was daily stirred, 
and for the arousing of which they waited with all the 
eagerness with which a toper is said to long for his 

7 


8 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


morning dram. There was the excitement of waiting 
for the locomotive’s shriek and the first puff of smoke 
that marked the approach of the cars in the distance, 
and this was followed by the departure, which left them 
in a state of curiosity and suspense, not entirely un- 
like that which the old Greek dramas imparted to the 
breathless audiences that followed them in their vast 
theatres. Then too there were the few passengers who 
were soon to leave Rockford, as well as the people who 
were waiting for the arrival of friends ; and as a matter 
of course the ever-present small boy was very much in 
evidence, and as he “ walked the rails ’ * or leaped 
across the track, his delight seemed to be increased by 
the warning word which some one of the assembly 
occasionally gave him. At frequent intervals some 
farmer would drive up to the pen which joined the 
freight house, and with ungentle hands roughly push 
out the calves he had brought in his great wagon-box, 
and compel them to join the bleating herd soon to be 
carried away to the great city. Their piteous cries 
could be constantly heard by the waiting people, but 
they attracted little attention, although some occasion- 
ally expressed their disgust and anger at the brutal 
methods, which are all too common, of supplying the 
toiling people of the great cities with their meat. The 
thoughts of the coming train however, which now as 
usual was twenty minutes behind time, did not appar- 
ently permit any one long to dwell upon the sufferings, 
present or prospective, of the brute creation. They 
were all too eager for the * ‘ afternoon train ’ ’ to come. 


WAITING 


9 


Among those who were waiting was Ward Hill. Ap- 
parently he was taking but little interest in what was 
going on about him. He nodded or quietly responded 
to the greetings he received from the waiting people, 
but that was all. Back and forth along the gravel path 
which led across the country road to the station, he 
walked, but he seldom took his eyes from the distant 
bend in the road where the smoke of the coming loco- 
motive, he was well aware, would first appear. 'For 
Ward was expecting a friend to arrive by that same 
'‘afternoon train.” Early that morning he had re- 
ceived a telegram, a most unusual experience in his 
life. Even now he could feel the thrill as he tore open 
the yellow envelope and read the words : 

Am coming on afternoon train. Meet me at the station. 

Speck. 

Once more he took the message from his pocket and 
re-read it. He smiled as he placed it again in his coat 
and a softer expression came over his face. However 
the other boys in that far-away Weston school might 
feel toward him, Speck, or John Hobart, as his name 
had appeared in the catalogue, at least was true to him. 

“ Dear old Speck,” thought Ward, as a vision of the 
school and his experiences there in the preceding year 
rose before his mind. And yet it was evident that the 
recollection was not entirely pleasing. To Ward it had 
largely been a year of failure. He- thought of his own 
high hopes when he had entered, and then the picture 
of his gradual but sure descent could not be forgotten. 


IO 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


How he had neglected his work and been drawn into 
the company of those who were no credit to the school, 
to their parents, or to themselves ! How he had failed 
at the very time when he had been most eager to show 
what he could do ! He had won no prize, had failed 
in the final examinations, and by his one attempt to 
do right, had incurred the anger of “ the fellows,” and 
at last had departed from Weston feeling very like an 
outcast. The bright spots had been the friendship 
of Jack Hobart, and the strong confidence which Mr. 
Crane, the teacher of Latin, had expressed in his abil- 
ity to recover himself and in a measure make good the 
time he had lost. All summer long that final interview 
with Mr. Crane had been his inspiration, and Ward 
had worked faithfully in his endeavor to make up the 
work he had lost. 

There had been times when he had felt that he must 
give it all up. The days when his friend Henry Boyd 
and some of his companions had come for him to go 
with them sailing down the bay and out along the shore 
of the ocean, which he could see every morning from 
the window of his room in his father’s house, had been 
the most difficult for him, but somehow he had roused 
himself and kept steadily at his task. Then too, there 
had been days when the sun had been almost like a ball 
of fire, and the very air he breathed had seemed almost 
like the hot breath of a furnace, and it had required 
the exertion of all his will power to continue at his 
studies. And will power had never been Ward Hill’s 
strongest point. 


WAITING 


II 


His father had not spoken to him all summer long 
concerning his work, for he had gently informed Ward, 
at the close of his disastrous year at Weston, that the 
future lay entirely with him. He was willing to do his 
utmost for the boy whom he loved, but he never should 
insist now upon his return. If he made up his work 
and desired to go on, he would sacrifice and do his 
utmost for him, but as for sending him when he him- 
self had no desire to go — that was an impossibility. 

Ward had felt the justice of his father’s words, but 
his heart had been none the less hungry for the words 
of encouragement which were not spoken. He little real- 
ized how difficult it had been for his father to remain 
silent, and with what tender solicitude he had watched 
the course of his only boy ; but Mr. Hill had been 
governed largely by the advice of his friend, Dr. Gray, 
the head of the Weston school, who had keenly realized 
the crisis which had come in the lad’s life. The issues 
of life have always to be settled by us alone, and all the 
advice and sympathy of the very best of our friends 
can never take the place of that decision and exertion 
which must come, if ever success is to be won, from 
the individual soul itself. 

And Ward had done his best. All summer long he 
had kept steadily at his task. An occasional letter 
from Mr. Crane had given him some encouragement at 
the time when he had needed it most ; for there was no 
man whom he respected more and none, with the sin- 
gle exception of his own father — whom Ward, in spite 
of his failures, dearly loved — for whom he cherished 


12 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


a stronger feeling of affection. After all, perhaps 
Ward Hill was learning what we all come to know 
sooner or later, that there is no such thing as a genuine 
love which does not have a feeling of deep respect as 
its basis. 

And yet what a summer it had been ! It had brought 
almost no pleasure to him. The other boys had been 
free to come and go as they chose, but for Ward there 
was only the steady grind of work — work which was all 
unnecessary he knew, for if he had only been reason- 
ably faithful to his duties in the school, he too might 
have had the summer to spend as every vacation ought 
to be spent. For him there had been no sailing parties, 
no fishing trips, nothing but the hard and steady work. 
Even his friend Henry Boyd had soon let him alone 
when he saw that Ward was not inclined to join with 
his companions in the sports of the summer days. 

Ward had been almost inclined to blame his friend 
for his neglect, although he well knew he was himself 
the only one at fault ; but then that is a tendency 
which seems to be in the hearts of us all. It is almost 
always some one else who is at fault, we fondly believe, 
for our own shortcomings and failures. Few of us 
have the moral courage to look squarely at ourselves 
and to call everything by its proper name. However, 
Ward had not cherished any ill will, and perhaps smart- 
ing under the sense of his failures, had preferred to be 
let alone. 

He glanced up at the pastures that stretched away 
beyond the station at Rockford. How the grass had 


WAITING 


13 

withered and curled beneath the influence of the hot 
August sun ! A fitting picture, he thought, of his own 
summer vacation. All his plans had been thwarted 
and every hope blasted by the failure he had made at 
Weston. The fields all parched and sere seemed 
something like his own life. And Ward felt quite like 
a youthful misanthrope, only it is likely he had never 
heard that word used, or never had thought of its 
meaning. 

But July had gone and the most of August had now 
passed. The time when he must return to Weston, if 
he returned at all, would soon be at hand. And Ward 
Hill had not yet fully decided that question. There 
were times when he thought he certainly would go back 
and redeem himself, but when he thought of the un- 
popularity which had overtaken him near the close of 
the year, and of what he must face if he should return, 
his heart almost failed him, and it seemed to the 
troubled boy as if he never could enter Weston again. 
The only source of comfort he had was the knowledge 
that the work at last had been completed and he felt 
reasonably sure of his ability to pass the examination 
in which he had failed, and now could go on with his 
class in case he decided to enter the school again. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the distant whistle 
of the engine, and the far-away cloud of smoke and 
dust proclaimed the approach of the train. 

In a moment signs of life began to appear about the 
little station. The man who for years had carried the 
mails picked up the mail pouch and approached the 


14 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


place where he knew by long experience the mail car 
would stop. The station-master put on his cap, his sole 
badge of office, the small boys ceased from their antics, 
those who were to leave Rockford gathered up their 
bags and bundles, and all came out from the station 
and stood waiting for the approaching train. 

Ward too was thoroughly interested now, and took 
his stand a little apart from the crowd. On came the 
rumbling cars, gradually slackening their speed, and at 
last directly in front of him they came to a rest, the 
locomotive still puffing as though to add its part to the 
little station’s excitement. 

And there was Jack, standing upon the platform and 
gazing eagerly about him for his friend. In a moment 
he spied him, and flinging his traveling bag before him 
upon the ground, he leaped lightly from the platform 
and made a dash for Ward. 

In a moment he had flung his arm about the neck of 
his friend and was shaking him eagerly by the hand. 
Ward, who was a somewhat reserved lad and never 
very demonstrative in his displays of affection, instead 
of feeling somewhat abashed by the exuberance of his 
friend, was greatly touched, and for a moment his eyes 
were filled with tears. Jack was so different from all the 
boys he had ever known. No matter what he might 
say or do, no one could take any exception to him. 

“I say, Ward,” said Jack eagerly, “ this is the best 
sight my poor old eyes have looked upon all summer. 
You don’t know how I have looked forward to this day 
and how glad I am to see you. ’ ’ 


WAITING 


15 


“And I am just as glad to see you,” said Ward, 
returning the pressure of his friend’s hand. 

“Glad? Well, I should say! That’s a fine word 
to use in welcoming your long-lost friend and brother 
after he’s taken the dirtiest ride he ever took in 
his life, and all just to look into your eyes again. 
Glad? Why don’t you say you’re teetotally overcome, 
so to speak. Say you’re wild with joy and you ‘ would 
that your tongue could utter the thoughts that arise in 
you. ’ Isn’ t that what the doctor used to say was the 
proper thing in our English class ? ’ ’ 

“ I believe so,” replied Ward, laughing more heartily 
than he had all summer. 

“Well, say it then ! It seems to me you’re trying 
to put it that you would that your tongue could stam- 
mer the thoughts that surge up in your massive brain. 
Why the very calves of Rockford are glad I’ve come,” 
he added, as there came a louder blast of lamenting 
from the pen. “I say, Ward, what are they there for? 
Are they calves which you have specially fattened up for 
the return of the prodigal ? ’ ’ 

“They’re fatter now than they will ever be again, 
I’m afraid,” said Ward smiling. 

“ It was mighty kind of you to have a whole yard 
full waiting for me. I didn’t expect to have but one. 
But, then, that’s always the way with Ward Hill. He’s 
capable of doing a heap more than he ever lets on. 
But I say, old fellow, you don’ t know how glad I am 
to see you. It’s driven every freckle on my face out of 
sight.” 


i6 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


And the impulsive Speck again held his friend out at 
arm’s length and gave him a look in which all his boy- 
ish love seemed to find expression. 

Ward picked up his friend’s traveling bag and to- 
gether the boys started up the quaint winding street of 
the old village, on their way to his home, Jack mean- 
while chattering on of all his summer experiences, and 
of what he had heard from the other boys. 

“ Here we are ! ” he shouted as they came in sight 
of Ward’s home. “It’s just the same, only better 
than it was. Hold on a minute, Ward,” he added as 
they stopped by the gate. “I’ve got one thing to say 
to you, and I want to say it right now. You’re going 
back to Weston, aren’t you? Your letters haven’t been 
very satisfactory, and I must know. Tell me. Tell 
me, quick ! ’ ’ 

“I don’t know,” replied Ward evasively. “We’ll 
talk about that later. Here’s mother waiting for you. ” 

The boys turned quickly and walking rapidly up the 
flower-bordered path were warmly welcomed by Mrs. 
Hill, and then at once entered the house. 


CHAPTER II 


WARD HILL’S DECISION 


FTER dinner that same evening Henry Boyd came 



over and joined them, and for a long time the 
three boys sat on the vine -shielded piazza and talked 
about the experiences of the preceding year at Weston. 
At times their laughter could have been heard far up 
the street, for Jack Hobart was not one to permit quiet 
long to reign where he was. 

Ward’s father and mother, who had not remained 
with the boys after they saw that the conversation had 
turned to school topics, were none the less rejoiced at 
the change which the coming of Jack had wrought in their 
boy. His laugh was the merriest of the three, and for 
a time it seemed as if the gloom which had rested over 
Ward all summer long had disappeared. 

“I’ve heard from lots of the fellows,” Jack was say- 
ing, “and I can tell you we’re going to have the best 
year at Weston we have ever seen. Why, even Tim 
Pickard is coming back. ’ ’ 

“Tim ? ” said Henry quickly. “Why, I thought he 
had been expelled and never could come back again. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Tim’s made it all up with Dr. Gray. He’s seen 
the error of his ways and wants to turn over a new leaf. 
He’s promised all sorts of things and has been study- 


B 


1 8 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

ing hard with a tutor. I really think Tim means what 
he says too. He’s not such a bad fellow, you know, 
after all. He’s had too much money and his mother’s 
dead, you know, and so there was no one to look after 
him besides his father, and he was too much interested 
in stocks and things to give any attention to his own 
flesh and blood. I believe he has written some such 
stuff to the doctor and promises to do his part too in 
looking after Tim. He’s even said he’d see to it that 
Tim shall have only a dollar a week for spending 
money. Poor Tim ! ” added Jack with a laugh. 

“ If he’ll only keep it up,” said Henry soberly. 

“Yes, if he’ll only keep it up,” repeated Jack. 
“That’s the rub, I know. Tim means what he says 
now ; no doubt about that. He’s even going to take a 
room alone down at Ma Perrins’, so that he’ll be out of 
the way of temptation and me.” And Jack’s merry 
laugh rang out at the words*- ‘ ‘ Honestly, I don’ t 
know about his holding out though. I have my own 
opinion about that, but I don’t mean to prophesy evil 
of any fellow. And then Tim’s going to have some 
things in his favor you must remember. For example, 
he’ll be out from under the influence of your humble 
servant, and that’s no small thing, I’d have you know.” 

A silence for a brief time followed Jack’s words. 
Ward felt that Jack in his words about Tim Pickard was 
really taking that means to inform him of some of the 
problems which would face him upon his return to 
Weston. That is, if he should return, for Ward was 
not yet decided as to what he would do. 


WARD HILL’S DECISION 


9 


Tim Pickard had been his most bitter enemy. Even 
now he could see his coarse face and hear his brutal 
laugh. Could he ever go back and face him ? The 
very peacefulness of Rockford came out just then the 
stronger by way of contrast with the difficulties he 
would have to face in the school. The croaking of the 
distant frogs rose on the air, the fireflies were flitting 
about in the yard, and the soft mellow ligflt of the moon 
was beginning to appear. It was the very perfection of 
quiet and peace. Here there were no “Tangs,” no 
T,im Pickards, no enmities and jealousies ; while the 
presence of his father and mother seemed to him like a 
shield from everything that was evil. It was so much 
more easy to keep out of trouble in Rockford than it 
was in Weston. And yet Ward knew that both his 
father and mother were intensely eager for him to re- 
turn to the school and redeem himself. Which was 
better for him, to go back and face all the possible 
temptations and difficulties of the school life, or to 
remain where he was and be free from them all ? In his 
heart Ward knew the answer. To remain in Rockford 
would be virtually playing the part of a coward. He 
would not have to meet and struggle with certain forms 
of evil there, but it would be a confession that he was 
afraid. He would lose more than he would gain, there 
could be no doubt as to that, but the struggle to decide 
was no easy matter. 

Ward Hill had not yet learned the lesson that 
whether we do right or wrong depends far more upon 
ourselves than upon our surroundings. He might 


20 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


remain away from all his troubles, and yet he would 
also stay away from all that would aid him also. At 
first Ward had pleaded that he might be permitted to 
go to some other school, but his father had been firm 
upon that point. He had told Ward that he would do 
his utmost and his best for him, but if the lad wished 
to go on with his studies it must be at Weston and no 
other place for the coming year. And Ward had real- 
ized the justice and truth of his father’s demand, and 
had not again urged his request. 

“I say, fellows,” said Jack, breaking in upon the 
silence, * ‘ whom do you suppose I saw this summer ? ’ ’ 

“I can’t imagine,” said Henry. “Perhaps it was 
Big Smith. ’ ’ 

“Good guess, Henry. It was that same and no 
other. Yes, sir; I was with my family up in the 
country, and it seems it was right where Big Smith lived, 
but I’d forgotten all about it, if I ever knew. Well, 
one day I was walking down the street of the city — it’s 
a place about the size of Rockford, you know — and there 
I came upon his majesty as big as life, yes, as big as 
Big Smith. He made a great time over me, beat 
Ward’s reception all to pieces, if he did have all the 
fatted calves in the county out to greet me upon my 
arrival. ’ ’ 

“ Was he the same at home that he was in Weston ? ’ ’ 
inquired Ward. 

“Yes, just the same, only different. He had the 
same pompous way with him, but I tell you, fellows, 
Big Smith isn’t so bad after all. He’s just one of those 


WARD HILL’S DECISION 21 

chaps that’s been spoiled by living in a little place, 
where everybody thought he was a great man because 
he’d once been away to school. He’d never had a 
fair chance to size himself up, so to speak, and when 
he got with a crowd of fellows he didn’t know just 
what to make of it when they didn’t all fall down 
before him.” 

Jack suddenly stopped, realizing then for the first 
time what he had said. Both of his companions were 
from a little place too, which he had just declared was 
not unlike Big Smith’s home. Perhaps they too had 
suffered somewhat from the same cause which had 
brought about Big Smith’s unpopularity. Ward, at 
least, realized in a measure the truth of Jack’s words 
as applied to himself, and he felt his cheeks burn. But 
the dusk hid him from the sight of his companions and 
he said nothing. 

“You know, of course, you fellows,” said Jack, 
striving to break a part of the force of his own words, 
as he felt rather than saw that an unfortunate turn in 
the conversation had arisen, “that I don’t mean that 
Big Smith’s ever had any such homes as you have. 
He’s had all the disadvantages without the advantages 
you have here, and you have all the advantages without 
his disadvantages. I don’ t think you fellows half appreci- 
ate what you’ve got here. But Big Smith’s a horse of 
another color. And yet I never saw such a change 
come over a fellow in my life as there has in him. I 
couldn’t hardly believe my own ears when I heard him 
talk.” 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


22 


^W^iavh 
‘ ( Well", he ' tofci 




said V\^rcn qtrr^aq^ ^ 
me about a jal$ he* had wffRlVIr. 


Crane before he left Weston, or it may have been a 
talk Mr. Crane had with him — P m not sure which it was. 
It seems that Mr. Crane sent for him and they had a long 
confab. Mr. Crane got him to talking about himself, 
and finally led him on until he had expressed his opin- 
ion about some of the other fellows too. Finally, after 
he’d told of some things one of the boys had done, 
Mr. Crane turned to him and said in that abrupt way 
of his, ‘ Smith, that fellow is making a fool of himself, 
isn’t he? ’ Big Smith fell into the trap and I can hear 
his graveyard voice as he said, ‘Yes, he is, and a big 
one too.’ Upon that Mr. Crane jumped up out of his 
chair and looking Big Smith squarely in the face said, 

‘ Well, Smith, that’s just what you are doing too ! ’ And 
then he turned and walked straight out of the room. 
Big Smith laughed while he was telling me all about it, 
and said he was never cut up about anything so in all 
his life, but he’d been thinking of it all summer, and 
had about made up his mind that Mr. Crane had the 
right of it. Why, fellows, I almost gasped for breath. 
Think of Big Smith getting off anything like that. It 
doesn’t seem possible to me even now. Why, if Big 
Smith can reform there’s a chance for Tim Pickard, 
and there must be for me.” 

“Then he’s going back to Weston, is he?” inquired 
Henry. 

“Yes, sir, and he says he’s going to make Ward and 
you just bestir yourselves or he will come up to you.” 


WARD HILL’S DECISION 


23 


“That won’t be very much of a task, so far as I’m 
concerned,’’ said Henry ; “but if he overtakes Ward, 
he’ll have to rise somewhat earlier in the morning than 
he has been accustomed to do.’’ 

Ward said nothing. He was thinking of that con- 
versation Jack had reported as having taken place 
between Big Smith and Mr. Crane. Perhaps he him- 
self was the very one of whom Big Smith had made the 
remark that he had ‘ been making a fool of himself. ’ 
And it was true ; that was the worst thing about it. He 
had played the fool, for a lad of any brains at all would 
never have done as he had, he thought bitterly. 

“Did you see Pond? You know he lives in the 
same place in which Big Smith does,” said Henry. 

“No, I didn’t see him,” replied Jack ; “ but I hear 
he’s off working somewhere. At least that’s what Big 
Smith said. I hope he’ll come back ; he’s one of the 
very best fellows in the Weston school.” 

“That he is,” said Ward eagerly ; “but he’s not 
coming back before Christmas, if he does then. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why not ? Have you heard from him ? ’ ’ inquired 
Jack. 

“Yes, he’s written me two or three times. He’s 
the only fellow I’ve heard from, except Jack here and 
Mr. Crane, though he isn’t exactly a fellow.” 

“Oh, yes he is. Mr. Crane’s one of the best feh 
lows I ever met, if he does call me up and set me down 
hard in the Latin room,” said Jack with a laugh. 
“What did Pond write you ? ” 

“He wrote me that he’d have to stay out for the 


24 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


first term and try to earn some money. His younger 
brother is coming though. ’ ’ 

44 That will be Big Pond and Little Pond then,” said 
Jack. “I wonder whether the fresh Pond is as good 
a ball player as Big Pond is ? We want to fix the Burrs 
this fall.” 

4 4 1 don’t believe he’s as much good as that,” said 
Ward, ‘‘because his brother has written me that he’s a 
slight, delicate little chap, and he wants me to take him 
under my wing till he himself comes back. ’ ’ 

“Couldn’t be under better, my boy, couldn’t be 
under better,” said Jack. 44 But I don’t want his 
coming to interfere with one of the plans I’ve made.” 
44 What’s that? ” inquired Ward. 

4 4 Why, I want you to room with me. You see, I’ll 
be left all alone now that Tim’s going down to Ma 
Perrins. I need your feathers to cover me a good deal 
more than Little Pond ever could. ’ ’ 

Jack spoke eagerly and his strong desire was clearly 
apparent in his words. Ward was deeply touched, but 
after a brief hesitation, he said slowly: 44 No, Jack, I can’t 
do it. I hope you don’t feel hurt, or think it’s because 
I don’t want to. But I’ve been thinking it all over, as 
we’ve been sitting here. At first I didn’t see how I 
could go back to Weston, anyhow. I thought I’d go 
up just to pass my examinations and clear up last year’s 
work, but since you’ve been talking here I’ve decided 
to go back, and pitch into the work and do my level 
best. 

44 Good for you, Ward Hill!” said Jack eagerly, 


WARD HILLS DECISION 


25 


springing up from the steps of the piazza upon which 
he had been seated, and slapping his friend delightedly 
upon the back. “ Good for you ! Why, do you know 
that’s just what I came up here for? I was so afraid 
you weren’t going to come that I just couldn’t stand 
it, so I put straight for Rockford. Of course I’m sorry 
you aren’t willing to room with your humble servant, 
though I don’t know as I can find it in my heart to 
blame you for that. The other thing’s so good though, 
that I’m not going to shed a tear. We’ll do up the 
Burrs in fine style now.” 

“ Hear me out,” said Ward quietly. “I think I’d 
better go straight back just as I was, and if Henry here 
doesn’t mind, I’d like to go in with him and take the 
same old room in West Hall and make a fresh start. 
If Henry doesn’t feel like doing that, that will change 
matters a bit.” 

“I’m only too glad to do it,” said Henry warmly. 
He said nothing about Ward’s declining Jack’s offer, 
for he thought he understood exactly how he felt about 
it. He was so rejoiced over Ward’s decision to return 
that he was eager to do all in his power to aid him now. 

“That fixes it, then,” said Jack enthusiastically. 
“Come, fellows, let’s let off one of the school yells !” 
The three arose and gave the Weston cheer together. 

The noise brought Ward’s father and mother to the 
door, and as they appeared Jack shouted: “Ward’s 
going back with us, Mrs. Hill ! He’s going to room 
with Henry and we’ll whip the Burrs and lead the class 
and do all sorts of things ! ’ ’ 


26 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


The Hill household was a happy one that night. 
Ward’s decision had wonderfully pleased his father and 
mother, and he himself was surprised at the relief which 
had come to him. Better than ever before he realized 
that it meant a severe struggle for him, but the present 
weight at least was lifted from his heart, and in the joy 
which comes from facing and overcoming a difficult 
problem, Ward Hill was happier than he had been for 
many weeks past. 

On the following day the three boys had a sail on the 
bay, and then the “afternoon train” carried Jack out 
of Weston. 

“ Never mind fattening up any more calves for me ! ” 
he called from his place on the rear platform of the 
last car. “It’s all right and I’ll see you in a few days 
at Weston!” 

Two weeks later, just as the sun disappeared behind 
the western hills, Ward and Henry alighted from the 
coach in Weston as it stopped before the entrance to 
West Hall, and running lightly up the stairway, soon 
entered “seventeen,” the same room in which they 
had begun their experiences of the preceding year. 


CHAPTER III 


MR. CRANE’S EXAMINATION 



LONG with all the excitement attending the return 


of the boys to the school there was a feeling of 
depression in Ward’s heart which he could not entirely 
shake off. The walls of the room seemed more bare 
than they did in the preceding year, and the undefined 
dread of meeting his former companions pressed heavily 
upon him, now that he found himself once more in the 
old familiar place and under the necessity of facing not 
only them but himself as well. 

The cloud which had rested upon him when he left 
Weston, while it had never disappeared, had neverthe- 
less been somewhat dim and hazy when he had been 
away from it all, and had had the presence of his father 
and mother to strengthen him ; but now he was alone, 
and all his former feelings returned. How long it 
would be before he would see Rockford again ! And 
what experiences were likely to be his before the fall 
term was ended. 

Heavy as his heart was, however, Ward did not refer 
to his feelings, but busied himself in arranging the few 
articles of furniture which comprised their possessions, 
and soon the room took on its old and familiar appear- 
ance. Up the stairs and through the halls the other 


27 


28 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


boys were rushing, and the sound of the heavy trunks 
as they were deposited in the rooms could be continu- 
ally heard. Their own door was closed and no one 
entered to disturb them, a fact over which Ward 
secretly rejoiced, for he was dreading far more than he 
cared to express, his first meeting with his fellows. 

“ There,” said Henry at last, “ I don’t see that we 
can do anything more to-night. I think we’d better 
go over and report to the doctor now, don’ t you ? ’ ’ 

“Yes,” said Ward gloomily. “It’s got to be done, 
and the sooner it’s over the better.” 

Henry glanced keenly at his friend, but made no 
further response, and in a few moments the boys left 
West Hall and went over to Dr. Gray’s house. The 
reception room seemed to be almost filled with boys 
and their parents, and Ward was surprised as he noted 
that many were evidently new-comers. 

As he took his seat he busied himself for a time in 
carefully observing his companions and it was not long 
before he had satisfied himself that among the new 
arrivals he would find some who would be congenial to 
himself. His thoughts and observations were both 
interrupted by the entrance of the principal, who at 
once advanced and shook the hands of Ward and 
Henry, and after they had delivered the letter they had 
brought, they quickly departed. 

As they came out again into the broad, shaded street, 
Ward determined to carry out a plan he had, formed, 
which was nothing less than to seek out Mr. Crane at 
once, and ascertain when his examination upon the 


MR. CRANE’S EXAMINATION 


29 


work in which he had failed was to take place. He 
said nothing concerning it to Henry, however, and 
merely remarking that he would soon be back in the 
room, turned and abruptly left his chum. 

As he walked slowly over toward East Hall, the 
building over which Mr. Crane had charge and in 
which he had his room, his feeling of anxiety increased. 
Perhaps after all he would be unable to pass his exami- 
nation. He had worked faithfully all summer long and 
had felt confident when he left home that he could 
easily make up the lost work, but now that the test- 
ing time had come all his fears returned. There was 
one thing certain any way, he thought, and that was 
if he should succeed in passing Mr. Crane’s tests now, 
never again would he be found in such a predicament. 
He thought again of the teacher’s words about its be- 
ing so much more easy to keep up than to catch up. 

“He’s right,” said Ward aloud. “He’s right. He 
always is. I almost wish Mr. Crane would let me room 
with him. I think I could do right there so much 
more easily.” 

He smiled as he thought of the suggestion and real- 
ized how absurd it was. After all, if he could room 
with the man whom he so highly respected and loved, 
would he be any better for it? It would be Mr. 
Crane’s “right” and not his. No, he must brace 
himself to meet his problems himself. Ward Hill’s 
future lay in Ward Hill’s hands. 

Just then he came around the bend in the path and 
East Hall was right before him. From every window 


30 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


a light was streaming, and it was evident that there was 
to be no lack of boys at Weston this year. Now and 
then a burst of laughter could be heard, and occasion- 
ally the words of a song rose on the still air. The 
building seemed to be teeming with life and spirits, and 
somehow in the presence of it all Ward felt a wave of 
lonesomeness sweeping over him. The East Hall boys 
all had good rooms, plenty of money, and no lack of 
friends. His own room seemed to him bare and chill ; 
money he knew he must use sparingly ; and as for 
friends, he did not know whether any besides Jack and 
Henry were left for him among the boys of the Weston 
school. 

He was now by the stone steps which led up to the 
first hall, and Mr. Crane’s room was the first one on 
the left. Summoning all his courage, Ward resolutely 
approached the door and rapped. 

It was opened by Mr. Crane himself, and as he 
quickly recognized the lad standing before him, he held 
forth his hand and said cordially : “Why, Hill, I’m 
delighted to see you. Come in. ’ ’ 

Ward entered and seated himself in the chair indi- 
cated by his teacher. He was in almost the very same 
place where he had been ten weeks before, and all the 
memories of that scene came pressing back upon him. 
The recollection was not over-pleasing; and the troubled 
boy was hardly able to speak. He had thought many 
times of the very words he would use when he first saw 
Mr. Crane again, but they were gone from him now. 

Mr. Crane, apparently not noticing Ward’s embarrass- 


MR. crane’s examination 3 1 

ment, began to speak of the experiences of the sum- 
mer. 

“I took a long tramp among the Northern hills,” 
he said. “It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience 
to me. I was alone the most of the time, and more 
than once I wished that you were with me. I think 
you would have enjoyed it, and I know that I did.” 

Ward listened as Mr. Crane went on with his descrip- 
tions, and for a moment almost forgot the purpose of 
his visit. Soon it all came back, however, and unable 
to restrain himself longer, he broke out with the words : 

“I know I should have enjoyed it, Mr. Crane, but 
I didn’t have just that kind of a summer. I spent 
every forenoon in going over my work. I only had two 
days off all summer long, and yet I’ve not felt so bad 
as I thought I should. At least I don’t now, for I 
think I can pass up on my examinations ; that is, if 
they’re no harder than those you gave at the end of the 
year. ’ ’ 

“They’ll be no harder,” replied Mr. Crane, with a 
smile. “Now tell me about the work you’ve done.” 

And Ward entered into a detailed account of all the 
studying he had done during the summer vacation. 

Mr. Crane listened attentively, occasionally interrupt- 
ing to ask some question that occurred to him, and at 
last when the troubled lad had finished his story, he 
quietly said : 

“And now you think that you can pass any exami- 
nation I can give you on the work ? ” 

“ Hardly that,” said Ward quickly ; “but I do think, 


32 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Mr. Crane, that I can pass any examination which isn’ t 
any tougher — I mean harder — than the one you gave 
the class last June.” 

“ Very well, Hill, I shall take your word for it. You 
ought to know as much about it as any one, and if you 
think you understand the work, I’m satisfied.” 

“ I don’t understand you,” faltered Ward. “What 
do you mean ? ’ ’ 

“Just what I said, Hill. All I want of an examina- 
tion is to satisfy myself that a boy can go on with his 
class. From what you have told me of your studying, 
and from what I know of you, I am satisfied you can 
do that, and that is all I want. Of course I shall ex- 
pect good work from you, Hill, and you’ll not dis- 
appoint me.” 

“ Why, Mr. Crane ! ” said Ward starting up from his 
seat. “And I’m not to take an examination? Is 
that what you mean ? ’ ’ 

“Yes.” 

“I never expected anything like that,” said Ward 
much moved. “I can’t tell you how much I thank 
you, Mr. Crane. It’s not that I’m afraid of the ex- 
amination,” he added hastily, “but I never even 
dreamed of your doing any such thing. ’ ’ 

“I trust you are not too much disappointed. If 
you are, I can very readily arrange to meet your 
wishes,” replied Mr. Crane smilingly. “I’ve told 
you, however, just howl feel about it, and if I’m con- 
tent, why, it seems to me you ought to be.” 

“Iam ! Iam!” said Ward hastily, as he bade Mr. 


mr. crane’s examination 33 

Crane good-night and departed for his room in West 
Hall. 

How different everything appeared now ! The very 
stars in the heavens seemed to share in his joy. The 
songs and laughter that came through the open win- 
dows of the great dormitory behind him now seemed to 
voice his own feelings. In his eagerness he began to 
run and as he entered West Hall he mounted the steps 
two at a time and burst into his room. 

“Oh, Henry ” 

He suddenly stopped as he saw that there were three 
boys besides Henry in the room. One was Jack, and 
in a moment that impulsive lad was welcoming him. 

“I say, Ward,” said Jack, “I’m just in. I didn’t 
stop over in East Hall longer than to leave my gri^> 
before I put straight for your room. Behold, I looked 
for you and you were not. You’ve been looking me 
up, I know. That’s just what you’ve been doing. I 
don’t believe I’d have come back to Weston if you 
hadn’ t come ! ’ ’ 

“I’ve been over to see Mr. Crane and fix up my 
conditions,” said Ward. 

“ Got ’em all fixed ? ” 

“ Yes, every one.” 

“ Good for you, Ward ! Good for you ! Oh, I say, 
I haven’ t introduced the new fellows to you. This, ’ ’ 
he added turning to a well-grown lad, evidently of about 
their own age, “this is Lucius Berry. He’s going 
to enter our class, and from what I hear he’s going to 
make you hustle to get the valedic. ’ ’ 

c 


34 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Ward greeted the new member of the class cordially, 
and then Jack said, “This is Pond’s baby brother.” 

The lad flushed at Jack’s words, and Ward hastened 
to take him by the hand and assure him of a warm 
welcome. He was a slight, delicate boy, and while he 
bore a striking resemblance to his older brother, of 
whom almost every boy in the Weston school was very 
fond, it was also evident that he was not nearly so 
strong and well as he. Ward wondered that he should 
ever have been permitted to leave home, and as he 
thought of the experiences through which the sensitive 
lad was bound to pass if he remained through the 
year, his own heart went out to him and he resolved 
that so far as it lay within his power he would do his ut- 
most for him. 

For a half-hour the boys sat and talked together. 
The prospects of the nine, the new members of the 
school, the rooms they were to have, were all gone over, 
and Ward in the new joy which had come to him at 
Mr. Crane’s words was thoroughly happy. 

“Little Pond,” as Pond’s younger brother was at 
once dubbed, explained that his brother expected to 
return at the opening of the following term and that 
meanwhile he was working in the home village store to 
secure the means. 

“He’s got the best kind of stuff in him ! ” said Jack 
enthusiastically. “Talk about money giving a fellow 
his place in the Weston school! Why, Pond’s the 
most popular boy that’s been here in years. I think 
Pd be glad to change places with him myself, that is, if 


MR. CRANE’S EXAMINATION 


35 


he’d give me his brains in the bargain. Just imagine 
me if you can, calling out, ‘ Yes, this calico is five 
cents a yard. Those eggs are fresh, for Mrs. Green 
brought them, and she never has any but the best, you 
know. Clothespins? Yes, I think we have a few, 
and I’ll measure you off a few yards of this cotton 
cloth if you say the word.’ ” 

The boys all laughed as Jack went through the mo- 
tions as if he were a clerk in a country store and were 
measuring off the goods some good woman had decided 
to purchase. “But I say, fellows, it’s hard for the 
nine, though, with Pond gone. But Berry here is a 
good player. He was the captain of the nine in th$ 
school he came from before he learned of the advan- 
tages of the Weston school. There only can you find 
such fellows as Jack Hobart and Ward Hill, and such 
teachers as Blake and Big Smith, for I’m of the opinion 
that Dr. Gray will call Big Smith into the faculty this 
fall. He’ll have to do it, or Big Smith will fire the 
doctor. ’ ’ 

Jack thrust his thumbs into his hip pockets and 
strutted about the room as he talked, and to Ward his 
manner and bearing seemed irresistibly droll. But 
then, Ward Hill was in a mood to enjoy almost any- 
thing that night. 

“I say, Berry,” said Jack stopping suddenly before 
the new boy, “ your name’s Lucius, isn’t it ?” 

“Yes,” replied Berry. “I’ve told you so once or 
twice already.” 

“So you have. So you have,” said Jack. “But 


36 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


somehow, I forget so easily. Why, I’ve actually been 
known to forget the case and gender of a noun in Mr. 
Crane’s class, haven’t I, Ward? Lucius, Lucius,” he 
added as if he were puzzled by the name. ‘ ‘ I have it 
now. You shall be no more Lucius. From this time 
forth your name shall be Luscious. Luscious Berry ! 
Oh, what a name ! ’ ’ 

All the boys laughed heartily at Berry’ s new name, 
Berry himself joining good-naturedly in the laugh as he 
said : “I thought I’d shaken that name off when I 
came to Weston. It’s the very same name they gave 
me in the other school.” 

“Jack,” said Ward suddenly, “has Tim Pickard 
come back ? ’ ’ 

“Yes,” said Jack, sobered in a moment. “Yes, 
Tim’s here. He’s going to room alone at Ma Perrins’, 
you know, this year. ’ ’ 

Ward’s face clouded and he knew from the change 
in Jack’s manner that something was wrong, though he 
could not determine just what it was. The fun, how- 
ever, was gone, and in a few minutes Jack rose and 
said : “ Come on, Luscious, we’ll have to go over to our 
room. He’s to room with me, you know,” he added 
turning to Ward. “He’s come all properly recom- 
mended and all that sort of thing, so I’ve agreed to 
take him in. Good-night, Henry. Good-night, 
Puddle — a little Pond’ s a puddle, isn’ t it ? Good- 
night, Ward. Your vertebrae are in their proper ten- 
sion I hope, and your upper lip is sufficiently rigid, my 
dear young friend, I trust. ’ ’ 


MR. CRANE’S EXAMINATION 


37 


The boys were gone, but Jack’s last words were not 
lost upon Ward. He understood his friend so well that 
he was satisfied Jack knew of some coming trial for him. 
And Ward tried to prepare himself for the trouble 
which he feared was soon coming, although he had 
slight conception that night of how soon it was to come. 


CHAPTER IV 


A CALL FOR HELP 

“ T’M going down to Mr. Blake’s room a minute,” 

A said Henry when Jack and his new room-mate 
had departed. “I sha’n’t be gone long.” 

“All right,” replied Ward, as he turned to talk with 
the younger Pond, who had remained as if he had 
something he wished to speak about. “Well, Pond,” 
he added, after he had seated himself near him, “how 
do you like Weston ? ” 

“I think I shall like it after I’ve become better ac- 
quainted. Of course, I’ve heard my brother tell so 
many things about it, that it doesn’t seem exactly like 
a new place to me. And he’s told so many things too 
about the boys, that it almost seems to me as if I had 
always known them. ’ ’ 

“I’m afraid you haven’t always heard good things 
then, if he’s told you about the boys. I’m sure the 
list of good things wouldn’ t be very long in my case. ’ ’ 

“ He told me he liked you better than any boy in 
the school,” said young Pond eagerly. “ I never heard 
him say one word against you, except that you didn’t 
work very hard. He declared he never would have 
been able to lead the class if you had put in half the 
time he did, on your studies.” 

38 


A CALL FOR HELP 


39 


“That’s kind of him,” said Ward laughingly, 
although he was touched by the evident earnestness of 
the boy before him. “Is this the first time you’ve 
ever been away from home ? ’ ’ 

“Yes. And I fear I’m going to be homesick too.” 
“ Oh, you mustn’t mind that !” said Ward as philo- 
sophically as if such feelings were an every-day matter 
in his life. “You’ll get over that all right.” 

“That’s what my brother said. And he told me 
too, that I should need some one to look after me a bit 
and help to keep me out of the clutches of the ‘ Tangs,’ 
or some such things. I don’ t know just what he meant, 
only he said if I would come to you, that you would 
help me till he came back next term. ’ ’ 

For a moment Ward was silent. The “Tangs ” had 
not once been mentioned during the summer, and both 
Henry and Jack had been silent concerning them. 
But Ward, although he did not know what course Jack 
would follow, had decided that for himself safety lay 
only in breaking with them. But his heart was not 
entirely free from fears or misgivings when he thought 
of the possible consequences for himself. And here 
was Pond’s younger brother coming to him with the 
utmost confidence for protection against the very boys 
whom he most feared himself. He glanced again at 
the lad before him. What a slight, delicate little fellow 
he was. And yet what a bright, eager expression he 
had. He would have no difficulty in his classes ; Ward 
felt certain of that ; but what would he do if the boys 
began to trouble him ? 


40 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“ You come to me, Pond, whenever you’ re in trouble, 
and I’ll do my best for you,” he finally said, unable to 
resist the unspoken as well as the spoken appeal of the 
slight boy before him. 

‘ ‘ Thank you ! Thank you ! ’ ’ replied Pond, rising 
from his chair and departing just as Henry returned. 

It was late on the following morning when Ward and 
Henry started to go to the dining hall, and they met 
many of the boys who already had eaten their break- 
fast. Ward secretly felt relieved at the fact, for the 
meeting with the boys was what troubled him most. 
He had been in trouble when the preceding year had 
closed, and unpopularity was something of which Ward 
Hill stood in greater fear than of anything else. How 
he would be received now was the constantly pressing 
question, but its solution would soon come, for 
* ‘chapel” would bring all the boys together, and he 
would not long be left in doubt as to his position among 
his fellows then. 

The chapel bell was ringing when Ward and Henry 
hastily left the Hall, or ‘ ‘ hash house ’ ’ as the building 
was commonly known, and they hastened back to their 
rooms to secure their books before they ran swiftly up 
the walk which led to the chapel. Even then there 
was the usual delay on the part of some of the students, 
and Jack Hobart was leading a band of delinquents as 
the bell began to give out the sharp short strokes that 
indicated the end of its summons. 

“ String out there ! String out, you fellows ! ” called 
Jack, as he caught sight of Ward and Henry, mean- 


A CALL FOR HELP 4 1 

while striving hard to button his collar and adjust his 
tie. 

This time Ward understood the meaning of the hail 
far better than when he had first heard it in the preced- 
ing year, and ceasing to run, he approached the building 
more slowly, thus giving Jack and the other delinquents 
an opportunity to overtake them and secure their seats 
before the bell ceased to be rung and the doors were 
closed. 

Their seats now were in the section which belonged 
to the seniors. Last year how he had looked up to the 
boys who occupied these seats. Ned Butler was there 
then, and others whom Ward had deeply respected. 
Was any one looking up to him as he had looked up to 
that marvelous class which had been graduated in the 
preceding June? Just then he caught a glimpse of 
young Pond, who was evidently far from feeling at his 
ease in the midst of the strange scene. 

But Dr. Gray then arose and the low murmur which 
had filled the chapel became hushed as the exercises 
were begun. Then followed a talk from the doctor 
concerning the work of the year which lay before them, 
and Ward could not repress a smile as Jack Hobart 
looked solemnly at him and held up four fingers of one 
hand, thereby indicating that this was the fourth occa- 
sion on which he had listened to the same ‘ ‘lecture ” 
from the good old man. However, the words were well 
worthy of repetition and Ward was soon interested and 
listened attentively. Directions were given the new 
boys concerning the rooms and places in which they 


42 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


were to report, and then each class was told what was 
to be expected of it on that day, and the boys arose 
and started toward the doors. Ward now knew that 
the testing time had come, and he would soon under- 
stand just what he had to expect from his old compan- 
ions. Summoning all his resolution as he passed out, 
he saw Tim Pickard standing with a group of boys, and 
at once turned and approached him holding out his 
hand and endeavoring to appear calm and indifferent. 

“Hello, Tim. Glad to see you back again.” 

Tim Pickard turned and looked insolently at Ward. 
There was not a gleam of recognition or pleasure ex- 
pressed upon his face. He looked at Ward just a 
moment and then, ignoring the outstretched hand and 
the salutation alike, he turned again to the boys before 
him and resumed his conversation with them. 

Ward’s face flushed crimson, and at first he felt as if 
he could not control the feeling of anger which surged 
up in his heart. Who was Tim Pickard, that he should 
treat him in such a manner ? Had he not been ex- 
pelled from the school ? Did not every fellow in the 
school know just what he was? Had any one forgotten 
the escapades of the coarse-fibred boy? Ward’s heart 
sank quickly, however, when he thought of his own 
record in the preceding year. If Dr. Gray was willing 
to receive Tim Pickard back into the school for another 
trial, who was he to complain ? And how much better 
after all was he than Tim ? 

Ward caught the words “sneak” and “bootlick,” 
which Tim had uttered as he had turned again to his 



“Tim Pickard turned and looked insolently at Ward.” 

Page <12. 
















































. 







A CALL FOR HELP 


43 


companions, and realized then just what he would have 
to face. Tim Pickard’s anger, the enmity of the 
“Tangs,” and a series of petty annoyances which would 
be bound to follow him now perhaps all through the 
school year, must be met. 

It seemed to the troubled boy as if every one in his 
class was against him, for he received but a friendly nod 
or a slight recognition as he hurried into the Latin 
room and took his old familiar place. Jack already 
was in the chair next to his and Ward at once perceived 
from the expression on his face that he was aware of 
the state of the feeling in the school. 

“Nevermind, Ward,” he whispered, as his classmate 
took his seat; “just you keep in mind what I told 
you about the condition of your vertebrae, and the 
region of your upper lip. It’ll all come out right.” 

To do Ward Hill justice we must say that there was 
a feeling in his heart which did not promise to be alto- 
gether bad. It is true he was hurt and angry as he 
recognized what lay before him, perhaps more angry 
than hurt, but he was determined now not to be 
crushed, or “downed,” as he termed it. Mr. Crane 
kept the class but a few moments, only long enough to 
assign lessons and to make a few general suggestions, 
and then dismissed them. 

As they filed out of the room, Jack said: “Ward, 
will you come over to my room now ? ’ ’ 

“No,” replied Ward quietly. “I think I’ll go over 
to West and get a little start in my work. If I’m to 
be valedic, you know, I must begin early.” Ward 


44 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


smiled slightly as he spoke, but he could not entirely 
conceal the depression which now swept over him. 
“Never mind, Speck, don’t worry about me,” he 
quickly added as he saw the sympathy expressed upon 
his friend’s face ; “I’m going to come through it all 
right. I’m not for giving up yet, anyway. I’ll come 
over to see you after a bit ; but just now I think I’ll go 
to my room.” 

“All right,” said Jack heartily, evidently appreciat- 
ing Ward’s desire to be alone. 

Ward walked slowly over toward West Hall. He felt 
as if nearly all his companions would be against him 
now. Tim Pickard, in spite of his well-known character, 
was still a good deal of a leader, and his wealth and 
success as an athlete added greatly to his power over 
the boys. He could not repress the wish that Doctor 
Gray had not permitted Tim to return, for he must have 
known what every boy in the Weston school thought of 
him, and must also have known that there was very slight 
prospect of Tim’s ever advancing. But here he was, 
and Ward must face the conditions which were before 
him. There was to be no escape now. 

He entered his room and at once began to study. It 
was difficult for him to hold himself to his work, but he 
succeeded in a measure, and when two hours later 
Henry entered, Ward had much of his work done. 
So far as his class work was concerned he could look 
forward with confidence to what was to come on the 
morrow. 

Throughout the day Ward found that his only con- 


A CALL FOR HELP 


45 


solation was in busying himself in some work. When 
he went down to the boarding hall he had but little to 
say to his companions, and returned at once to his 
room. 

The day somehow passed and after the evening 
meal, when he had seated himself before his study 
table to write his first letter home, Big Smith suddenly 
entered the room, and said : 

“Why, Ward, I haven’t seen you to speak to you 
before. Where have you kept yourself ? ’ ’ 

“ I haven’t been very far away,” replied Ward with 
a smile. 

His heart had never been drawn to the boy before 
him, but in times like the present even the friendship 
of Big Smith was not to be lightly cast aside. Ward 
Hill could endure anything better than the ill-will of his 
fellows. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” said Big Smith 
solemnly. ‘ ‘ I sincerely trust you are going to do 
better this year than you did last. ’ ’ 

“ I hope so too,” said Ward ; “and I’m not without 
hope,” he added solemnly, and striving to imitate 
exactly the tones Big Smith had used, “that you too 
will be able to improve. ’ ’ 

“ Let us hope so. Let us hope so. Doubtless there 
is room for us all. But, Ward, I’m not so much afraid 
of you as I am of Tim Pickard. I don’t see why the 
doctor ever permitted him to return. I shouldn’t, I’m 
sure of that.” 

Ward’s face flushed and an angry retort rose upon 


46 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


his lips, but he restrained himself, and Big Smith con- 
tinued : 

“Yes, I confess, I’m not overmuch rejoiced over 
Tim’s return. He’s a good man for the nine, we all 
know that ; but I fear he may be a disturbing element 
in the school. Not with me,” he hastily added, 
“but I fear for you, Ward, I do, indeed.” 

Still Ward managed in some way to keep silent, 
though, as he afterward explained it, he never under- 
stood just how it was done. 

“Even now,” continued Big Smith, “I hear that 
Timothy is at work again. My brother informs me 
that he and some of his cronies have beguiled young 
Pond down on the ball ground and are tormenting him 
there. ’ ’ 

“What? What’s that, you say?” said Ward 
quickly, leaping from his seat as he spoke, and without 
waiting for his question to be answered he seized his hat 
and ran swiftly out of the room. Down the stairs he 
rushed, three steps at a jump, and out along the path- 
way that led to the ball ground. 

One thought possessed him now — Little Pond was in 
trouble. Ward recalled his own promise to aid him, 
and now that the lad was suffering at the hands of Tim 
Pickard two feelings drove him on. One was his com- 
passion for Pond and the other was his anger at Tim. 

It was dusk, the sun having disappeared, but the 
darkness not as yet having settled over all. He ran 
swiftly forward and as he came near the ball ground he 
stopped as he heard a shout of laughter coming from 


A CALL FOR HELP 


4 7 


thzt direction. It seemed to him he could hear Tim 
Pickard’ s voice above the others, but he did not stop to 
question as he again ran swiftly forward. 

He soon came to the brow of the low hill that looked 
down upon the field. There he stopped for a moment 
and looked before him. He could see that four or five 
boys were there and there was something in the midst 
which at first he could not make out. Soon, however, 
he could see what it was. It was a baby carriage and 
some one was lying strapped upon it. 

“ Look out now, gentlemen,” he heard some one of 
the boys call. “ We have here the finest specimen of 
the infant terrible ever yet seen. Genus homo , order 
» > 

“Don’t! Please, don’t!” Ward heard some one 
pleadingly say. The voice was that of young Pond and 
the other speaker he now knew was Tim Pickard. 

The pleadings were not heeded, however, and with a 
rush the boys started with the baby carriage over the 
rough ground. 

Again Ward could hear the pleadings of the fright- 
ened lad and the sound was more than he could bear. 
In an instant he started down the hillside at his highest 
speed and ran swiftly on toward the noisy group. 


CHAPTER V 


A WARNING 


ARD had drawn near the group before his pres- 



ence was discovered. The deepening dusk 


and the sheltered position of the ball ground had made 
the boys who were tormenting Little Pond almost reck- 
less, so secure did they feel from detection. As a con- 
sequence he was close upon them before any one per- 
ceived him. 

‘‘Now shake the infant up! Bye, baby, bye! 
That’s a good little boy. We’ll give him a good ride, 
so we will ! ’ ’ 

There was no mistaking that voice, it could be none 
other than Tim Pickard’s, and Ward could see that he 
was holding the handle of the carriage and was prepar- 
ing to make another rush with the unfortunate lad who 
lay stretched upon it. 

“Look out! Look out!” called one of the boys 
suddenly, as he caught sight of the approaching form. 
“Some one’s coming. Let’s get out of this !” 

In an instant Tim’ s companions scattered and fled in 
the darkness, while Tim himself looked about him in 
surprise, as if he were not yet able to account for the 
sudden departure of his friends. 


Ward was close upon him now, and without hesitat- 
48 


A WARNING 


49 


ing an instant he rushed upon the tormentor of Little 
Pond with such force that he was sent headlong and 
rolled over and over upon the ground before he could 
regain his foothold. 

Ward had not fully realized what he would have to 
meet in the struggle, for he had thought that he would 
be set upon by all the assembled mischief-makers to- 
gether ; but the cry of Little Pond had banished all 
other thoughts from his mind, and he had gone recklessly 
to the aid of the lad. He had not counted at all upon 
the results which quickly followed. 

As soon as Tim could recover himself he ran swiftly 
off in the darkness in the direction in which his com- 
panions had disappeared, and in a moment no one was 
left upon the scene except Ward and the lad, who still 
was lying fast bound and in an exceedingly uncom- 
fortable position upon the top of the baby carriage. 

Doubtless the fears in the heart of Tim and his com- 
panions had either exaggerated the number of those 
who were approaching, or they had thought some of 
the teachers were making a descent upon them, and in 
the latter event Tim most of all would have found a 
very serious problem to face. 

At any rate, they had all disappeared so quickly that 
Ward could hardly believe at first that he was left alone. 
He waited a moment to see if any would return, his 
blood boiling, and the feeling of anger in his heart 
making him almost reckless of any consequences that 
might befall him for his hasty but generous action. 

As soon as he was satisfied that no one was coming 

D 


50 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


back he turned to young Pond, and as he unbound 
the straps by which he had been held fast, he said : 

“What’s the meaning of this? How came you to 
be here ? ’ ’ 

“ I don’ t know. I was walking along the path over by 
the chapel when three fellows rushed at me, and before 
I knew what they were about they were rushing me down 
here upon the ball ground. One of them tied his hand- 
kerchief over my mouth, but I tore it off. I didn’t 
want to cry out, but I couldn’t help it. They didn’t 
seem to think any one could hear me and so left it off.” 

“ Are you hurt? ” 

“Not much, though my back pains me. You see, 
they picked me up and tied me in the carriage so that 
my head and shoulders hung over the back, and every 
time they made a rush it seemed to me as if they would 
break me straight in two. ’ ’ 

“ How long have you been here ? ” 

“I don’t know; it seems as if it must have been 
days, but I don’ t suppose it was more than half an hour. 
I thought they’ d never stop. ’ ’ 

“ Do you know who the fellows were ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Who were they? ” 

“I don’t think I’ll tell, Ward. It wouldn’t do any 
good ; and besides, I maybe mistaken, you know. No, 
I’d rather not tell you if you don’t mind.” 

“You don’t need to,” said Ward quietly. “I know 
who they were. At least I know who one was, and I 
rather think he’ll not forget his tumble very soon, either. 


A WARNING 


51 


But come on now, it’s time we were in our rooms. 
There goes the study bell now, and we’ll be marked 
late if we don’t look out. Come on.” 

Both boys started quickly toward West Hall, and on 
their way they met a group of five boys, one of whom 
was Tim Pickard. They too were heading for their 
rooms, but the recognition was mutual, and Ward 
instantly realized that his own troubles were likely to be 
multiplied by that fact. However, he said nothing to 
his companion. In a few moments they entered West 
Hall ; but the bell had ceased ringing several minutes 
before, and as they went up the stairway they met Mr. 
Blake face to face. 

“Late are you, Hill?” said the teacher. “I’m 
sorry to see that so early in the term. And you have 
one of the younger boys with you too ! ” he added as 
he saw who Ward’s companion was. “That’s too bad, 
Hill, that’s too bad. You ought not to get the little 
fellows into trouble too. It’s quite enough for you to 
get into it yourself. If this happens again, Hill, I shall 
report it to Dr. Gray. ’ ’ 

It had been in Ward’s heart to explain the cause of 
his tardiness, or at least to try to shield his companion, 
but as Mr. Blake talked on, he resolutely shut his lips 
together and without a word of explanation went on up 
to his room, while Little Pond also departed to his. 

As Ward entered the room Henry looked up in sur- 
prise, and Ward felt that there was an implied rebuke 
in his glance. Repressing the feeling of anger which 
at first arose, he soon explained to his chum the excit- 


52 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


ing scene he had just witnessed, and as he finished 
Henry said : 

‘ * That was a mean trick ! They might have broken 
the little fellow’s back. It was Tim Pickard at the bot- 
tom of it, I suppose.” 

“Yes,” said Ward quietly. 

“Well, never mind, Ward,” said Henry quickly. 
“Probably he’ll turn his attention to you now; but I 
think you’ll be able to stand it.” 

“ I shall try to,” said Ward with a smile, as he seated 
himself at his study table, and taking up his books 
began his preparation of the lessons for the following 
day. And he studied hard all that evening. His heart 
was still hot and his feelings were bitter whenever he 
thought of the brutal treatment of Little Pond, and yet 
he did not once pause to consider that a year before 
this time he might have been one of the very boys to 
be foremost in such a scrape, and call it good fun. 
Now, however, it seemed to him like a very cowardly 
act. He had felt a very strong personal liking for the 
elder Pond, and the letters he had received from him, 
as well as the appeal of the little fellow himself, had 
worked strongly upon his own heart. Besides all that, 
it was such an entirely unusual experience for him to be 
approached for aid that it was a new motive in his heart 
which was stirred now. Hitherto, he had been the one 
to seek help. Now he was a senior, and the feeling of 
respect with which he had looked to the older boys 
when he had entered the Weston school must be very 
like that which Pond’s brother now felt toward him. 


A WARNING 


53 


Ward enjoyed the feeling too. The cry of Little 
Pond for aid came back to him frequently and he had 
fully resolved before the evening passed that he would 
“see the little fellow through,” which was the way in 
which he expressed his determination to see that the lad 
was not put upon or tormented by Tim Pickard or any 
of his boon companions. 

Still, when the morning came Ward was hardly pre- 
pared for the consequences which soon followed his ac- 
tion. 

When he entered the post office he found a letter 
awaiting him there, which evidently had been written 
by some boy, for the handwriting plainly showed that, 
and the postmark was Weston. 

He hastily tore open the envelope and then read the 
enclosed letter, which was as follows : 

Weston School, September 18, 18 — 
To Ward Hill, Sneak : 

You are hereby notified that you have been expelled 
from the ancient and venerable order of “Orang- 
outangs. ’ ’ You have promised never to betray any of 
the secrets of the order, but probably you will not keep 
your word any better in this case than you do in 
others. We want to warn you though, that your best 
plan is to leave the school at once. Don’t delay, for 
delays are dangerous. Your life will not be safe. You 
will be snubbed by the fellows and you will find that 
everybody, except a few sneaks, in the whole school is 
down on you. If you stay it will be at your own peril. 
Take the advice and follow the warning of the 

Committee. 


54 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


As Ward looked up after finishing the reading of the 
letter he saw* Tim Pickard standing in the doorway and 
regarding him with ill-concealed hatred. Ward laughed 
aloud as he saw the boy, and approaching him and 
holding out the letter which he had just read, he said : 

“There, Tim, you’d better take your letter; I 
don’t want it. You may be able to scare the little fel- 
lows in the dark as you did Little Pond last night, but 
you can’t scare me. As for you and the ‘Tangs,* 
you know I don’t care that for them,” and he snapped 
his fingers derisively as he spoke. “You know as well 
as I do that I had made up my mind never to have 
anything more to do with such fellows. Perhaps, if 
you don’t want the letter, Dr. Gray might care for it,” 
he added as Tim made no movement to receive it. 

Ward was sorry for the words the moment he had 
uttered them, but they were gone beyond recall now. 
He had not the slightest inclination to give the letter 
to the principal, and he knew that Tim Pickard was 
aware of that fact too ; but Tim instantly snatched the 
letter from his hand and giving Ward a look of intense 
hatred turned quickly on his heel and departed. 

Ward was inclined to laugh at the entire matter. 
As for the “ Tangs,” he was glad that the break had 
come. He had known that his only safety lay in cut- 
ting loose from them, but just how it was to be done he 
had not been able to decide. It had been a topic of 
conversation to which neither he nor Jack had referred 
since the vacation had begun, and now that the break 
at last had really come, Ward felt relieved. 


A WARNING 


55 


As for their threats, he cared little for them. The 
most they could do would be a series of petty annoy- 
ances, and in the present state of his feelings that 
seemed a very small matter. 

Of Tim Pickard’s hatred for him he had no doubt, 
but that the brutal leader would be able to annoy him 
seriously he had no fear. He had all those lessons yet 
to learn, along with some others that were not indi- 
cated in the ‘ ‘ course of study ’ ’ as mapped out in the 
catalogue of the Weston school. 

When he entered the Latin room that morning and 
took his seat beside Jack, he felt rather than perceived 
that a change of some kind had come over his com- 
panion. It was nothing that Jack said, nor was it 
clearly apparent in his manner, and yet there was an 
indefinable something about him that led Ward to think 
that a change of some kind had come. For the first 
time Ward’s heart misgave him. Perhaps he had been 
too bold after all. Could he afford to incur the loss of 
Jack’s friendship for the sake of a little fellow whom 
he had never met until a few days before this time ? 

His thoughts, however, were soon recalled, and he 
was giving his entire attention to the work of the class. 
His own lesson had been thoroughly prepared and 
when he took his seat after Mr. Crane had called upon 
him to recite he felt that he had done well. 

Mr. Crane, however, made no comment, and there 
was no change in the quiet manner with which he con- 
ducted his recitation. Ward was a trifle disappointed, 
as he felt that such work as he was doing was entitled 


56 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


to a little more recognition than he had received. 
However, he gave his attention to the lesson, and 
when the class rose to leave the room he turned to 
Jack and said : 

“ It’s this afternoon the nine practises, isn’t it? ” 

“Yes,” replied Jack evasively. 

The conversation ceased abruptly, and as Ward 
passed with the class out to Dr. Gray’s recitation room, 
he several times perceived that he himself was the sub- 
ject of conversation among the boys. 

Striving hard not to appear to notice it, and yet 
with a sinking heart realizing that somehow the boys 
appeared to avoid him, he apparently was taking his last 
glimpse at his lesson before entering the recitation room. 
And yet his thoughts were not of the lesson. Even Jack 
he noticed was walking by the side of Berry — Luscious 
Berry — and if one might judge from his manner the con- 
versation was highly interesting. With a heavy heart 
Ward entered the room, and as soon as the recitation was 
ended departed alone for his room in West Hall. Once 
there, he seated himself and in a kind of dull misery be- 
gan to think over his situation. The fellows were “cut- 
ting ’ ’ him, there was no doubt of that, he thought, and 
even the new boys were looking at him with suspicion. 
And yet it was possible for him even now to win back 
all he had lost ; all he would have to do would be to go 
in with the “Tangs” again and enter heartily into 
their sports and pranks and he would soon have his 
position restored. 

But what would that position be ? One which would 


A WARNING 


57 


prevent him from doing good work, first of all, and that 
was something he was eager to do, at least for the pres- 
ent. Soon he would forfeit the good opinion of Mr. 
Crane and Dr. Gray, and his steps would begin to 
slide. He might win a certain amount of popularity 
from such fellows as Tim, but what would it all amount 
to ? 

Then why should he feel called upon to defend 
Little Pond ? He had been compelled to fight his own 
battles when he had entered the school and it had done 
him good, or at least so Ward thought. Little Pond 
would soon learn to take his own part, and meanwhile 
a little attention from Tim might not do him any real 
harm. 

Ward Hill was seriously troubled. He did not fully 
realize it, but the greatest pain in his own heart was 
over the loss of his popularity among his fellows. 

For this his heart hungered, and as his struggle went 
on, more than once his decision wavered. He was 
now at the dividing of the ways. He had been travel- 
ing along a road thus far which, while uneven, had 
been for the most part unbroken. Now the road 
forked, and if he went on he must choose either the 
one branch or the other. 

That afternoon was to be the first day of practice for 
the school nine. A notice to that effect had been 
posted upon the bulletin board, and while no personal 
invitation had been given him to come, Ward decided 
to go. He must learn the exact condition of affairs, 
both for his own sake and to know how to meet the 


58 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


boys, and there would be no better place than on the 
ballground. 

Accordingly, when the study hour was over, he 
closed his books and started for the place, from which 
as he approached he could hear already the shouts of 
the fellows in the game. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 

SINGLE glance as he came within sight of the 



field at once showed Ward that the nine were 
already in their places, and were playing against a 
scrub team. Henry was guarding first base, Jack was 
on second, and his own position in left field was held 
by the new boy, Ripley. 

Ward understood it all now ; it was the intention of 
Tim Pickard and his friends to “freeze him out.” 

He thought for a moment bitterly of the success he 
had had in the game with the Burrs in the preceding 
year, and how in their enthusiasm after the game was 
ended, his mates had carried him about on their 
shoulders, and the cheers for Ward Hill had been 
given with a will. 

And it had all been sweet to Ward too. Vanity 
seems to have been intended as a part of the original 
make-up of every son of Adam, and while many times 
it becomes a source of weakness, more frequently it is 
an element of power. Almost every boy is prone to 
look upon his own father, for example, with a confi- 
dence and admiration he gives no other man, and 
rightly too. The belief in one’s own ability to do 
things is no slight element in the possible success which 


59 


6o 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


he may achieve. But out of proportion, or not in its 
proper place, or when permitted to become a control- 
ing power, vanity never fails to become a source of 
weakness. 

This had been as true with Ward Hill as it had 
been with Big Smith, although the manner in which it 
became manifest was so different. To measure one’s 
self justly, to decide honestly what can be done and 
what cannot, is ever an element of power, and one of 
the very best lessons, as it is almost the first of the 
necessary ones, to be gained as a boy goes out from his 
own home, where his good qualities have frequently 
been exaggerated and his poorer ones ignored; and to 
learn that there are other boys as bright as he, is a diffi- 
cult but necessary process. A school is the most thor- 
oughly and the most honestly democratic place in all 
this world, and if a boy finds that there he is not pop- 
ular with his mates, instead of blaming them he needs 
very carefully and honestly to look within himself to 
discover the causes. It is frequently said that the 
source of Caesar’s success was his ability to discover 
what he could not do and to govern himself accord- 
ingly ; while the cause of Napoleon’s downfall is said 
to have been his inability to perceive what Caesar saw. 
But Ward Hill that afternoon was not thinking either 
of Caesar or Napoleon. He was troubled most of all 
about Ward Hill and the fact that he had been left off 
the Weston nine. 

His mortification was not diminished when he dis- 
covered that both Henry and Jack were in their regular 


THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 


6l 


positions. Now he understood the meaning of the 
change in Jack’s manner. While he was angry he was 
not inclined to blame him, for he understood clearly the 
disposition of the light-hearted lad, and knew that he 
was never one to stand long against an appeal of almost 
any kind. 

But Henry’s action troubled him. He had professed 
so warm a friendship, and apparently had been so eager 
to have their former relations restored, that he could 
not understand now why he should not have spoken to 
him before of the change in the nine. Perhaps Ward’s 
bitterness was a little more intense from the conscious- 
ness he had that there was no better player in the 
Weston school than he knew himself to be. That, 
however, did not alter the fact that he had been left 
out, and doubtless intentionally too. 

Ward’s first impulse was to turn quickly and leave, 
before his presence had been discovered. Suddenly 
changing his decision, he quietly turned about and 
striving to appear unconcerned advanced and joined 
the line of boys who were watching the game. He 
tried desperately to ignore the glances which were cast 
at him from the boys in the line, but he could not 
entirely succeed. Nor could he fail to hear some of 
the words which were spoken to some of the new boys 
concerning himself. 

Just then the side was out, and as the members of 
the nine came slowly in from the field Tim Pickard 
spied him. His face lighted up with a malicious smile 
as he turned to his companions and said: “Here’s 


62 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Ward Hill, fellows. He used to be a decent sort of a 
player. Can’ t we find a place for him on the scrubs ? 
The nine needs all the practice it can get, and he’ll 
help us out.” 

“I don’t care to play to-day,” said Ward quietly, 
although he felt his cheeks flush as he spoke. 

His mortification was not diminished when he saw a 
sardonic grin appear upon Tim’s face and the brutal 
boy turn and wink meaningly at his fellows. 

Ward stood his ground boldly, however, although in 
his heart he felt that he was something of a martyr. It 
was not just clear to him what the cause of his suffering 
was, but his disappointment and mortification, with 
which was mingled a feeling of anger, were uppermost. 
Not yet did he clearly see that he was reaping the har- 
vest of the seed he had sown in the preceding year. 
All that came to him now was the consciousness that 
he was being treated unjustly, and his whole soul re- 
belled, although he felt entirely powerless to change 
the condition of affairs. 

“ Never you mind, Ward,” said Jack consolingly, as 
he sought his friend’s side as soon as the game was 
resumed, “it’s all going to come out right in the 
end.” 

Ward smiled a little bitterly, but made no other 
reply. 

“Tim’s got backing enough to keep you off from 
the nine now, but it won’t last long. We’ve just got 
to have you when it comes to the game with the Burrs, 
and that’s all there is about it. Tim knows that as well 


THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 63 

as any one, and if he wants to he can’t keep the fellows 
back then.” 

“ Perhaps he can’t, but it takes two to make a bar- 
gain. Maybe I sha’n’t be so eager as you seem to 
think I will. I can’t do as some of the fellows do, be 
just the same to everybody, no matter how they act 
toward me.” 

“I know it,” said Jack quietly as he picked up a 
bat, having heard his name called, and advanced to 
face the pitcher. 

“It’s a shame, Ward ! ” said Henry who now came 
up to him. “It’s a shame, that’s what it is ! I didn’t 
know anything about it till I came down on the field. 
I supposed of course you were to have your regular 
place on the nine. If there’s no place for you, there’s 
no place for me either. Tim Pickard might as well 
understand that now as at any other time. ’ ’ 

Ward’s feelings were somewhat soothed by Henry’s 
words, and he deeply regretted the manner in which he 
had just spoken to Jack. 

It was too late then to recall his words, and he turned 
to his chum and said: “No, old fellow, you’re not 
going to leave the nine on my account. That would 
make it all the worse for me, don’t you see? You 
keep on for a while, anyway. I’m going up to see Mr. 
Crane now. I think I’ve had all the exercise I want, 
at least for to-day. ’ ’ 

Henry said nothing more, though he was strongly 
inclined to leave with Ward. He understood thor- 
oughly the sensitive nature of his friend and appreci- 


64 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


ated fully the suffering which he must be undergoing 
now. But somehow he felt powerless to aid him, and 
after watching him until he disappeared from sight he 
turned with a sigh and waited for his turn to bat to 
come. 

Ward walked proudly away from the field. He was 
determined to permit no one to witness his shame, 
for he felt humiliated and angry. How was it, he 
thought, that such fellows as Tim Pickard could hold 
and wield such an influence on the boys? He was not 
liked, of that he was certain, and yet in spite of that 
fact no one in the school apparently had more follow- 
ers. Why had Dr. Gray permitted such a fellow to re- 
enter the school ? He had been expelled once ; why 
should he not have been kept away entirely? The 
school certainly would be the better for his absence. 

Ward Hill had yet to learn that “Tim Pickards” 
were not confined to the Weston school, but that in 
every place and condition some one stands who ap- 
parently blocks our way and prevents us from being our 
best and truest selves. 

However, Ward was honest enough to feel the force 
of the thought which immediately followed. Perhaps 
if Dr. Gray had been only just, more boys than Tim 
Pickard might have been prevented from coming back 
to the Weston school. Where would he himself be but 
for Dr. Gray’s kindness? 

The thought did not tend to lessen his own bitter- 
ness, however, and when at last he entered East Hall 
and rapped upon the door of Mr. Crane’s room the lad 


THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 6 5 

felt utterly wretched. It did seem as if all things were 
working together for bad, as far as he was concerned. 

Mr. Crane quickly opened the door, and if he read 
the expression of misery upon Ward’s face he was too 
wise to mention it. He greeted him cordially, and as 
Ward took the proffered seat, he at once began to talk 
cheerfully of the life and work of the school. 

He spoke quietly — for Mr. Crane was never one to 
bestow praise cheaply — concerning the work which Ward 
was doing, and succeeded in drawing from the troubled 
lad so many of his opinions on matters pertaining to his 
home life and experiences in Rockford, that in spite of 
himself Ward felt his anger and mortification disap- 
pearing for the time, and was soon feeling quite at his 
ease. 

As soon as he perceived that the cloud had passed, 
Mr. Crane led the conversation on to the subjects 
which he knew were in Ward’s mind, and although he 
did not speak one word directly of them, Ward found 
himself wondering how much and what the teacher 
really knew of his troubles. He seemed to understand 
boys almost instinctively, and as Ward listened, his 
admiration for the quiet, self-possessed man increased 
each moment. 

“In school life,” said Mr. Crane, “there are always 
two forces which mostly aid a fellow when he is in 
trouble, or is trying to build himself up after a fall. 
One of these is to feel that there is some one looking 
up to him and perhaps depending upon him in many 
ways. Dr. Arnold was accustomed to say that the tone 

E 


66 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


of the school life at Rugby was always largely deter- 
mined by the older boys themselves. What they were 
and what they did became the standards for the younger 
fellows. I think the great teacher was exactly right. I 
have seen many a fellow here who was careless, and 
perhaps worse, when he was in the lower classes, com- 
pletely changed when he became a senior. The very 
fact that he knew the younger boys were looking up to 
him, as he himself had looked up to those who had 
been above him when he first entered the school, has 
served to draw out his very best qualities. Yes, I am 
convinced that there is nothing which so helps a boy to 
become a man as to feel that he is responsible for some 
one besides himself.” 

Ward sat silent as Mr. Crane talked, wondering all 
the while whether he had learned anything directly 
concerning him. Certainly he was describing the very 
condition which had appealed very strongly to Ward 
after Little Pond’s conversation with him a few nights 
before this time. 

“What was the other thing which helped a fellow, 
Mr. Crane ? ” said Ward at last, looking up at his teacher 
as he spoke. “You said there were two.” 

“Yes, there’s another great help, and that is his 
anger. ? * 

“His anger? I don’t think I understand you, Mr. 
Crane.” 

“What I mean is this. At times the only force which 
will rouse one and compel him to do his level best is to 
be aroused by some strong feeling of anger.” 


THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 67 


‘ ‘ But I thought that was something which was 
wrong,” replied Ward. “ I never heard any one speak 
like that before. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps not,” said Mr. Crane quietly, yet smiling 
as he spoke. “And yet I firmly believe no boy, or 
man either for that matter, ever yet did a great thing 
without having a feeling of strong anger at the time. 
I’m not talking of your irritable men, nor of bad-tem- 
pered men. But there are some things which thor- 
oughly arouse a good man, and the better he is the 
more will he be aroused. One who evidently knew of 
what he was speaking boldly encouraged us all to ‘abhor 
that which is evil. ’ The picture of the peaceful Man of 
Nazareth in the temple with a scourge in his hands 
often comes up before me. Do you know, Hill, I have 
never cared much for the faces some men have painted 
as being that of that wonderful Man. For myself, I 
should like to see just how he looked, that quiet, 
dignified, gentle soul, when he was aroused as he was 
in the temple. It would be an inspiration to me, I 
know, in some of the conflicts that go on within me at 
times. ’ ’ 

As Ward still sat silent, Mr. Crane after glancing 
quietly and keenly at him, went on. “Yes, Hill, that’s 
exactly what I mean. No man does his level best until 
he is thoroughly aroused, and nothing rouses him like 
a just anger. Why, think of Washington at Monmouth, 
when he first discovered the cowardice or treachery of 
Lee. His anger must have been as terrible as it was 
sublime, and what a wonderful effort he made then and 


68 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


there. Or you can think of Martin Luther in his anger. 
What would he ever have accomplished if he had not 
been roused almost to madness by the sight and knowl- 
edge of what was going on about him? It is true 
of every great man and of every good man too, for 
when you sum it all up no one ever becomes a good 
man — I don’ t mean 4 goody-goody, ’ but I do mean a 
good man — without being at the same time a great 
man too.” 

4 4 Do you mean a fellow is to be angry at what he 
sees inside of himself or what he sees going on around 
him?” asked Ward quickly. 

4 4 In a sense I mean both,” replied Mr. Crane. 
“There isn’t one of us who doesn’t do things, or is 
tempted at least to do them, for which he despises 
himself, and in my opinion he never rises much above 
them till he comes to have this feeling of anger of which 
I’ve just been speaking.” 

“ I think I understand what you mean, Mr. Crane,” 
said Ward rising from his chair. “I never looked at it 
so before, but you’ve helped me, helped me more than 
I can tell you. I think it was just to hear you say what 
you have been saying to me that I must have come 
here, Mr. Crane.” 

4 4 Come again then, Hill. Come whenever you wish. 
I shall always be pleased to see you. ” 

Ward, as he walked slowly on toward West Hall, of 
course could not see the smile on Mr. Crane’s face as 
he stood by the window in his room and watched the 
departing lad, nor perhaps would he have understood 























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- 





























- 





































































•• 



















,• r 















“The room was in complete disorder.” 


Page 69 



THE BEGINNING OF THE STRUGGLE 69 

it if he had seen it. But Mr. Crane apparently was 
not displeased at the effect of his words on his pupil, 
and soon resumed the work which had been interrupted 
by his entrance. 

Ward was thinking deeply as he walked along the 
path. A new and unusual expression was upon his 
face, and as he ran up the stairs and stopped before 
his door, he took the key from his pocket, and said 
aloud to himself, “Ward Hill — the senior.” Just what 
he meant by the expression he did not explain, perhaps 
he did not know. 

He unlocked the door and started to open it. There 
was a slight resistance, and leaning against it he pushed 
the harder. 

The door then flew open, but the opening was fol- 
lowed by a crash which might have been heard through- 
out the building. Chairs, tables, pitchers, lamps, and 
all the various belongings of the room, had been piled 
against the door and fallen in a confused mass all about. 
The room was in complete disorder. The carpet had 
been torn up, and even the curtains taken from the win- 
dows. The bedding was in the middle of the room, and 
the water from the pitchers had been poured over it. 
Even the beds had been taken apart and the pieces were 
scattered about over the floor. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 

OR a moment Ward was speechless as he gazed at 



A the scene of confusion before him. Whoever had 
done the work had done it thoroughly, for not an 
article of furniture nor a picture on the wall had been 
left in its proper place. It was confusion worse con- 
founded upon which he gazed. 

Quickly recovering himself, Ward pushed his way 
into the room and closed the door behind him. As he 
examined the heaps and piles before him more care- 
fully, he became more and more angry. It was such a 
senseless, malicious trick to play on him, that Ward felt 
the indignity the more. It was true he had known of 
such things having been done before in the rooms of 
other boys, and he had not thought much about it at 
the time, or had only laughed good-naturedly when he 
had heard of the deed ; but it was an entirely different 
affair when it came home to himself. 

“I think even Mr. Crane would be satisfied that I 
am angry ‘enough now,” Ward thought, smiling bitterly ; 
4 4 but I don’t see that it is going to help me very much. 
If the fellow who did it was here, why then I might 
turn my anger to advantage.” 

But even then Mr. Crane’s lesson came home to 
70 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 7 1 

him. “I’ll do as he suggested,” thought Ward, “and 
I’ll just turn in and set these things aright before I 
have time to get over it. ’ ’ 

Angry as Ward was he realized that the mischief 
must be repaired, and that he must be the one to re- 
pair it. 

But first of all he began to investigate the manner 
in which the mischief-maker had entered the room. 
The outside windows were fastened on the inner side, 
and no one could have entered through them, even if 
he had had the hardihood to make the attempt. The 
door had been locked when he had returned, but he 
soon satisfied himself that some one must have had a 
key and used it in his absence. 

Naturally his first thought was of Tim Pickard, but 
Tim was down on the ballground and must have been 
there long before Ward had gone. Tim himself then 
could not have done it. Who was it ? Ward thought 
over the boys who would have been most likely to be 
the guilty ones, but he could not arrive at any satisfac- 
tory conclusion. So many of the boys now were against 
him that it might have been any one of twenty whom 
he could name. 

It was impossible for Ward to banish the thought of 
Tim Pickard as having been the prime instigator, how- 
ever. He would be too shrewd to be directly impli- 
cated in the matter, Ward was well aware of that, but 
Tim could work indirectly. There w r ere too many of 
the boys who were willing to curry favor with him by 
any means for him not to be able to find some one to 


72 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“pull his chestnuts out of the fire for him,” as Ward 
expressed it. 

Satisfied that he must wait for a solution of the mys- 
tery, Ward took off his coat and resolutely set to work to 
restore the room to something like its former state. He 
quickly moved the furniture, and then after spreading 
out the carpet began to tack it to the floor. 

He worked on steadily and as quietly as possible, for 
he had no desire to be disturbed in his labors or enter 
into any explanations which a visitor might desire to 
have made. Several times some one rapped upon his 
door, but Ward did not heed the interruption. He 
paused in his work long enough to satisfy himself that 
the visitor had departed, and then resumed his labor. 

Never before had he worked so hard or so rapidly. 
He grimly thought of what Mr. Crane had said con- 
cerning anger as a motive for exerting one’s self, and 
certainly, he thought, in the present case it was work- 
ing remarkably well. In much less time than he had 
deemed it possible the carpet had been tacked to the 
floor, and then Ward at once -began to restore the fur- 
niture to its proper place. This last was an easy task, 
and as Ward glanced at his watch he was surprised to 
see that he had been working but little more than an 
hour. No one would suspect now from the appearance 
of the room that it had been “stacked,” to use the 
Weston term for the upsetting of a boy’s room. He 
then spread out the bedding in such a manner as to 
permit it to become dry, and just as he turned to enter 
the study room again, some one knocked on the door. 


73 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 

« 

Satisfied that no one would suspect what had oc- 
curred, but with his anger not one whit abated, Ward 
advanced to the door and slipping back the bolt, 
opened it. 

“Oh, it’s you, Little Pond, is it?” he said as Pond’s 
brother entered the room. “What’s up?” he hastily 
inquired, as he detected the trace of tears in the lad’s 
eyes. 

“Some one’s been in my room and upset everything 
in it. They’ve even poured water all over my bed, 
and I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ve been working 
hard for an hour to straighten things out, but I don’t 
think I’ve succeeded very well,” and the lad’s voice 
almost broke as he spoke. 

“Never mind, Pond,” said Ward quickly, forgetting 
for a moment his own experience and anger at the sight 
of the trembling lad before him. “I’ll go up and help 
you, and we’ll have it all straightened out before you 
know it. You mustn’t mind such a little thing as 
having your room stacked. It’s what every new boy 
has to expect.” 

Ward spoke quite bravely. His new role as “Ward 
Hill the senior” was already beginning to have its 
effect upon him, and in the impulse to help another, 
he almost forgot his own anger over what a little while 
before he had considered an outrage. 

‘ ‘ You haven’ t told any one about it, have you ? ’ ’ 
inquired Ward. 

“No; that is, I haven’t to any one except Big 
Smith.” 


74 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“And what did Big Smith say? ” 

“ Oh, he said just what you did, not to mind it.” 

“That was kind of him,” remarked Ward drily. 
“ He didn’t speak about being willing to come up and 
help you set the room up again, did he ? ” 

“ Why, no ; is he the one who does that? ” 

“Not exactly. It’s strange how many duties he has 
to do just when any one else happens to want anything 
of him. Why, there he is now,” he quickly added as 
they came out of the room and Ward carefully locked 
the door behind him. “ I say, Big Smith, I want you. 
Come up into Little Pond’s room and help set it up. 
The poor little homesick chap has had it stacked, and 
can’ t fix it alone. ’ ’ 

“I should like to, Ward, I really should, but I’ve 
some work to do, and I feel it to be my duty to attend 
to that first. I’ll come up as soon as I can.” 

“No, you won’t, you’ll come now,” said Ward 
angrily. “You’re not going to leave the little chap in 
any such way.” 

“ But, Ward, I can’t,” protested Big Smith, “I really 
can’t. I must do my work first.” 

“You’d better come. Such fellows as you some- 
times have to neglect their ‘ duties ’ to set their own 
rooms up. You’ll have your own room stacked the 
first thing you know. ’ ’ 

“Do you think so?” said Big Smith hastily. “I 
don’t see why any one should want to bother me in 
that way. But I’ll come up. Perhaps I ought to, 
though I do not wish to. ’ * 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 75 

“Come along, then,” said Ward; and the three 
boys at once proceeded to Pond’s room, and by their 
combined efforts the few belongings were soon restored 
to their former places. 

‘ ‘ I hope this stacking business isn’ t going to become 
the fashion,” said Big Smith solemnly. “It will be a 
very serious inconvenience to me if I should have to 
rearrange my room very often. It would interfere with 
my plans very sadly. Do you know, Ward, I heard 
some one in your room this afternoon ? I thought it 
w'as you at first, but when I saw you a little later com- 
ing up the path, of course I knew it wasn’t. Since 
I’ve been up here I’ve been thinking that your room 
might have been stacked too. You’ve been there, of 
course, and it must be all right, or you’d have spoken 
of it.” 

“My room’s all right,” replied Ward evasively, 
though his face flushed slightly as he spoke. He had 
no desire that Big Smith should learn of his misfortune. 
It was bad enough as it was, without having the report 
of it spread broadcast, as would be the case if Big Smith 
learned of it. ‘ ‘ Have any of the East Hall fellows been 
over here this afternoon ? ” he added. 

“No,” said Big Smith slowly, “ I haven’t seen any. 
Let me see, though, I did see Jack Hobart talking with 
Professor Mike a minute, but that was out in front of 
West. I don’t think he came in. Why? ” 

“ Oh, nothing, ’ ’ replied Ward slowly. He was think- 
ing of that interview between Jack and the janitor, or 
Professor Mike, as he was familiarly known by the boys. 


76 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Evidently he was troubled by the thought too, for he 
was silent for a time, and apparently not aware of the 
presence of his companions. 

“You’re all right now, Little Pond,” he said at last. 
“You can go and attend to that ‘duty’ of yours, Big 
Smith, and I’ll go to my room, for I’ve a little work 
that ought to be done. Now don’t forget,” he added 
turning to Pond, “to keep your door locked. Yes, 
lock it every time you go out; it’s the only safe way.” 

“It was locked this afternoon,” said Pond. “That’s 
what I can’t understand. I don’t see how any one 
* could get in.” 

“It is strange,” said Ward thoughtfully, as he de- 
parted. “Well, we’ll hope for better things next time. 
I shouldn’t say much about it to any one, though.” 

Ward started down the stairs, and in the lower hall, 
the one into which his own room opened, he saw the 
janitor. 

“Mike, come in here a minute,” he said, opening the 
door into his room as he spoke. 

The good-natured old Irishman followed him, and as 
Ward closed the door said : “I’ll be after havin’ yez 
know that me name’s not Moike, but Perfessor. Oi’m 
the perfessor of dust and ashes, I’d be havin ye under- 
stand. Oi’m nixt to the principal, Oi am, and indade 
and Oi’ve been here longer nor the doctor has.” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” said Ward quickly, in no mood 
to enter into the standing joke of “Professor Mike.” 
“What I want to know is this, has any one had your 
keys this afternoon ? ’ ’ 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 

“ Me keys, is it? What for should I be after givin’ 
up the badge of me own office, I’d loike to know ? Me 
and me keys are foriver togither. We’re one and the 
same, now and foriver. What for should you be after 
axin’ me such a question as that ? ’ ’ 

Ward thought he perceived from the janitor’s man- 
ner that he was rendered somewhat uneasy by the 
question, and resolving to chance all upon one ques- 
tion, he said : 

“Mike, what did you let Jack Hobart have your 
keys for ? ” 

“Jack Hobart have me keys? Is he that b’y they 
call ‘Speck,’ what has a room over in East Hall? Is 
he that same ? ’ ’ 

“ He is that same. Now tell me about your letting 
him have your keys. ’ ’ 

“ Indade, and Oi did not let him have me keys.” 

“All right then, Mike. That’s all I wanted to 
know,” and Ward made as if he were about to shut 
the door. 

“Hold on a bit, will yez? ’ ’ said Mike, evidently some- 
what disturbed. “ Oi did not let Speck have me keys, as 
Oi’m tellin’ yez. But that’s not sayin’ as how I might 
not have lint them to the lad a bit of a minute is it ? ” 

“You know what I meant, Mike,” said Ward, his 
trouble all returning instantly. “When did you let 
him have them ? How long did he keep them ? Who 
was with him ? ’ ’ 

“Listin to the lad, will yez. Jist listin to the quis- 
tions he can ask, faster nor any man can count ’em, 


78 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


and he the perfessor of dust and ashes at that. Now 
thin, I’ll be after tellin’ yez all about it,” said the jan- 
itor more soberly and evidently troubled more than he 
cared to show. “Jack Hobart came to me and he sez, 
sez he, ‘Me room’s locked Mike and I can’t git in,’ 
which same is true. Sez I, ‘ Why don’ t yez take yer key 
then, and unlock the door, me bye.’ ‘That same’s 
what I’d loike to do,’ sez Jack, ‘ but I’ve lost me key 
and Jacob’s gone to his dinner.’ Ah, that’s what comes 
of having a haything for a perfessor of dust and ashes 
instid of a white man loike mesilf. So whin the lad 
asked me to lind him the loan of me keys, I did that 
same. He didn’t be after havin’ ’em more nor tin 
minutes, and I shouldn’t be surprised at all, at all, if 
he didn’t have ’em a speck over nine. There’s bin no 
harm done, Oi’m thinkin’ ?” 

Mike could not conceal his anxiety. He had violated 
a strict rule of the school in lending his bunch of keys 
to any one. He himself ought to have gone and tried 
the keys himself if any one used them, and .this Ward 
knew as well as Mike. 

“Mike,” he said solemnly, “you’ve got yourself 
into trouble. There have been some rooms stacked in 
West Hall this afternoon, and you’re the one to blame 
for it too. You had no right to let any fellow in this 
school have your keys.” 

“Indade and that same is true,” said the troubled 
Michael. “Now, Mr. Ward, you’ll not be after re- 
portin’ it to the doctor, Oi’m thinkin’ ? The principal 
has enough to think of without addin’ to his cares and 


THE TROUBLES ARE INCREASED 79 

burdens. Yezwill not be after doin’ that, I know, Mr. 
Ward?” 

The janitor could not entirely conceal his fears, and 
Ward quicklyresolving to make use of them for his own 
advantage, said, “ Not yet, Mike, anyway. But those 
East Hall fellows must not come over here and stack our 
rooms. Now if you’ll promise to keep quiet and help 
me find out who does the mischief, it’ll be all right. 
But you’ll have to keep a careful watch. If the thing 
happens again, Dr. Gray ought to know of it.” 

“ Oi’ll trap ’em, me lad. Oi’ll help yez to fix ’em ! 
I will that.” 

“ All right then, Mike. But mind, now, you’ll have 
to keep both eyes open.” 

Michael departed troubled and yet elated over 
Ward’s words, just as Henry entered the room. Ward 
at first had thought he would not tell his room-mate of 
what had occurred, but changing his mind, he soon 
told Henry all about it. 

His room-mate’s anger was great when he had lis- 
tened to the story, and many were his expressions of 
sympathy. He too realized that Ward was likely to 
have a long and bitter struggle in the school now, and 
to the boy’s credit be it said, he did not once think of 
the trouble it might bring upon him as Ward’s chum. 

His words were comforting to the troubled Ward, 
who could bear the ill will of his fellows least of all. 
Indeed, the heaviness in Ward’s heart arose most of all 
from his loss of popularity, and how he would bear it 
not even he himself could tell. 


8o 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


He soon went with Henry to the dining hall, but was 
silent most of the time. The slight on the ball-field, 
the loss of his position on the nine, and the ‘ ‘ stacking ’ ’ 
of his room, had all combined to render him somewhat 
heavy-hearted and disinclined to enter into conversa- 
tion with any one. 

Henry understood his friend’s mood and neither of 
them spoke on their way back to their room when sup- 
per was over. They climbed the stairs together, and 
then Ward took his key from his pocket to open the 
door. 

As he pushed it back an exclamation of anger burst 
from his lips. The room had again bpen “stacked” in 
their absence, and a scene of indescribable confusion, 
very similar to that which Ward had faced in the after- 
noon, again lay before them. 


CHAPTER VIII 


PERPLEXITY 



N exclamation of anger burst forth from Ward’s 


lips, and even Henry’s ordinary calm was some- 
what disturbed by the sight. Chairs, tables, bedding, 
and carpets were all piled in one indiscriminate mass 
in the center of the room. The dim light from the 
hall only served to increase the impression of confusion. 

“Well, Henry,” said Ward ruefully, when they 
entered the room and had carefully shut the door, 
“it’s too bad that you have to be punished too for my 
sins. Whoever did this, evidently intended to make a 
thorough piece of work of it. Isn’t it a sight to be- 
hold ! ” 

“Never mind me, Ward,” said Henry quietly. 
“I’m ready to take my share ; all I’m sorry about is 
that somebody has such a mean spirit. What fun there 
can be in tearing everything to pieces like this I cannot 
see for my part. ’ ’ 

“ It hasn’t been done for the fun of it ; you can rest 
easy about that,” replied Ward. “I wish the one who 
did it was here now. I’d make him take a hand in fix- 
ing up the room again. Hello, the lamp’s broken ! ” he 
added angrily as he found the broken lamp in the midst 
of the heap on the floor. “Yes, and they’ve poured 


F 


81 


82 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


the oil all over everything too. It’s a good deal worse 
than it was this afternoon and that was bad enough. 
We’ll have to borrow a lamp, I’m thinking.” 

“No, mine’s all right,” said Henry quickly, as he 
drew forth his own lamp from the border of the con- 
fused mass. 

In a moment he had lighted it, and both boys stood 
for a moment and gazed ruefully at the wreck before 
them. Ward was almost too angry to speak now. All 
his quiet labor in the afternoon had been useless, and 
now a task even worse than the one which he had faced 
then was before him. 

“We might as well go at it now as any time,” said 
Henry quietly, removing his coat as he spoke, and pre- 
paring to begin the work. “It’s got to be done, 
Ward, and the sooner we do it the better. Come on, 
old fellow, we’ll soon have it all straightened out.” 

Ward made no reply, but he at once prepared to fol- 
low his room-mate’s example, and soon both boys were 
busily at work. Several times there came a rap on 
their door, but they did not heed it, for neither was in 
a mood to welcome callers. 

They continued eagerly at the task, working rapidly, 
and it was not long before the room began to take on 
once more something of its former appearance. The 
study bell had rung, however, before their labors were 
ended, and the rap on the door which soon came they 
recognized at once as Mr. Blake’s. 

Ward himself opened the door in response to the 
summons, and as he stood facing the tall teacher the 


PERPLEXITY 83 

flush on his face caused by his anger and his exertions 
had not entirely disappeared. 

“I’m surprised, Hill, not to find you at your studies. 
A senior ought not to set an example like this. I shall 
wait to see that you begin your work promptly and 
properly. * ’ 

Ward was too angry to offer any explanation. He 
bade Mr. Blake enter, and as he offered him a chair, 
he saw that Henry had at last succeeded in partially 
adjusting the last remaining belongings of the room. 

“We’re all right now, Mr. Blake,” said Henry 
quietly. “There were some things which had to be 
attended to before we could begin to study.” 

“You ought not to take the study hours for such 
work,” responded Mr. Blake, rising as he spoke. 
“I’ve heard you pounding up here for some time, and 
hoped you’d settle down so as not to disturb the others. 
You ought to bear in mind that there are other boys as 
well as yourselves in West Hall, and some of them I’m 
glad to say manifest a disposition to work. ’ ’ 

As Mr. Blake went out of the room Ward could 
restrain himself no longer. “That’s always the way 
with that man !” he said angrily. “No matter what 
you do, or how hard you try, it’s all the same. He 
has to put in his word and it’s always the wrong word 
at the right time too. I wish he didn’t have charge of 
West Hall.” 

“Oh, well, never mind, Ward. He doesn’t under- 
stand us very well, that’s a fact; but so long as we 
know he doesn’t, we know about what to expect. 


8 4 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


We’ll get to work now and forget all about Mr. Blake, 
and that the room ever was stacked. It doesn’t look 
now as if it had been troubled. You can’t see any- 
thing wrong about it, can you ? ’ ’ 

‘‘No, but I can smell it,” said Ward half-laughingly, 
for the odor of the kerosene which had been spilled 
was only too apparent in the room. 

However, the boys soon seated themselves by 
Henry’s table and began their work for the evening. 
It was some time before Ward could bring his thoughts 
to bear upon the work in hand, but at last he suc- 
ceeded and studied hard all the evening. 

“ There, I haven’t my work all done,” he said when 
at last the bell was rung indicating that the end of the 
study hour had come. “ I must have more time. I’m 
going down to ask Mr. Blake for permission to sit up 
a little longer. ’ ’ 

“Let me go,” said Henry quickly, but Ward was 
out of the room by this time and made no reply. 

In response to his request Mr. Blake shook his head 
and refused permission. Ward went slowly back to his 
room thoroughly angry. The teacher’s manner be- 
trayed his suspicion of the boy, and Ward did not take 
time to consider that Mr. Blake did not know anything 
of the new resolution he had formed, or of the strug- 
gle which was going on in his own mind. 

He closed the door with a slam as he came back and 
expressed his opinion in no mild terms of the man who 
was in charge of West Hall. Henry strove to soothe 
the angry feelings of his room-mate, but without avail, 


PERPLEXITY 


85 


and when at last the boys retired for the night, Ward’s 
anger had steadily increased. v 

“ Even Mr. Crane would be satisfied now,” he 
thought as he drew the bedclothes up around him. 
“I’ve got enough anger, as he called it, to supply every 
boy in West Hall.” 

But he was too tired to cherish his feelings for any 
length of time and was soon asleep. 

He was awake long before the breakfast hour, and 
hastily arising resumed his studying. By the time 
Henry had joined him he had his work all done, and 
felt that he was thoroughly ready for the tasks of the 
day. The fact gave him much satisfaction, and when 
they started toward the dining hall much of his anger 
had disappeared, so far as any outward manifestation of 
it was concerned ; but deep down in his heart Ward 
was thinking of his own troubles. Perhaps he even 
tried to cherish the feeling of anger a trifle, for it was 
so much more easy to work and face the school when 
he was aroused, than it was when only the fact of his 
own unpopularity was most apparent. 

However, he had decided upon one course of action, 
at least, and that was what he would have to say to Jack 
Hobart. A fine friend he was ! After all his protesta- 
tions of friendship, to go over to West Hall and get 
the keys to his room ! For Ward had not a doubt in 
his mind that Jack had been the one to carry out the 
scheme which he believed Tim Pickard had concocted. 
Not that Jack had “stacked” the room himself. 
Ward did not for a moment believe that. But he knew 


86 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Jack Hobart so well that he was certain he would strive 
to keep in the good graces of all the school, and if he 
saw the tide setting too strongly against him Ward some- 
how felt that Jack would desert him. Had he not 
done that very thing in the preceding year? It was 
true he had professed to be sorry, but what did “feel- 
ing sorry * ’ amount to, since he failed to stand beside 
him when troubles came ? 

Jack had expected trouble to come too, and Ward 
thought somewhat bitterly of his friend’s words, and 
how he had declared that his vertebrae and upper lip 
should manifest their power in the time of trial. And 
the trying time had come. 

Ward thought of the scene a few days before this 
time at the Rockford Station, when Jack had come on 
the afternoon train. How eager he had been then for 
him to come back to the Weston school ! And what 
strong words concerning his own friendship he had used 
too ! And Ward had believed him ; that was the worst 
of it all. 

But the “Tangs” had declared against him, and the 
troubled boy could not entirely shake off the feeling 
that Jack had not broken with them, and that his own 
troubles were mainly to be traced to that body. Doubt- 
less they were compelling Jack to bear his share now, 
and were hoping to increase his own troubles by that 
very fact. 

Ward’s heart was filled with these somewhat bitter 
reflections as he entered the Latin room. How cool 
all the boys were to him ! Scarcely any one had a 


PERPLEXITY 


87 


word for him now, and only a few months before they 
had been free enough with their applause and words of 
praise. 

Jack was already in his seat when Ward entered and 
his beaming face showed that he evidently was waiting 
for him to come. 

“ I say, valedic,” said Jack, as Ward took his seat, 
“just translate a bit of this stuff for me, will you ? It’s 
too much for me. My massive brain is not equal for 
the task.” 

‘ ‘ There won’ t be time, ’ ’ said Ward coldly. * * Here’ s 
Mr. Crane now.” 

Jack looked at him a moment in surprise and Ward 
noticed somewhat bitterly that he was evidently pained 
too. What a hypocrite he must be ! or else Ward must 
have been mistaken in supposing Jack was concerned 
in the upsetting of his room. But that was hardly pos- 
sible. Had not Mike himself said he had loaned his 
bunch of keys to him ? Surely no other one then could 
be at fault. 

The recitation now began and as Ward was soon 
called upon to recite, all other thoughts were imme- 
diately banished from his mind. He did his work well 
and noted the quiet smile upon Mr. Crane’s face as he 
took his seat. It was the mark of approval which he 
always gave when the work was done to his complete 
satisfaction. 

Ward’s troubles, however, soon returned. Of what 
advantage was it all for him to do well in his classes 
when apparently the hand of every fellow in the school 


88 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


seemed to be turned against him. Outside of Henry and 
Little Pond it did not seem as if he had a friend left. 
He wished he had not come back to the school. But 
he had come, there was no escape from that fact, and 
all that remained now was to be as brave as possible 
and not be overcome by his enemies. 

And yet how easy it would be to put an end to all 
his annoyances and once more be at peace with the 
boys. There was his place on the nine too ; he knew 
he could have it again. All he would have to do to 
regain that and also to have the popularity which once 
was his, was to go in with the “Tangs ” once more. 

Ward glanced up at Mr. Crane. How he did respect 
the man ! How kind he had been during the summer, 
and how sincere his interest was now ! Then too, there 
was Little Pond, who placed such implicit confidence 
in him. He was almost irritated by the dependence of 
the lad, and yet he liked the little fellow in spite of it 
all. No, he could not yield now, Ward thought. He 
had begun, and he must carry the struggle through to 
the end. 

When the hour came to a close, Ward realized that 
although he had made a good recitation himself, he 
had not heard much of what had been said by either 
Mr. Crane or the boys. He had been busied with his 
own thoughts and fighting again the battle which seemed 
as if it never was to cease. 

“I say, Jack,” he said as the boys rose to pass out 
of the room, “ I want to see you.” 

“Pm glad of it, Ward,” replied Jack as he joined 


PERPLEXITY 


89 


Ward, and they walked together across the campus 
toward Dr. Gray’s room. “I’d begun to think you 
never wanted to see me again. I’ve been racking my 
brains to see what the difficulty was. ’ ’ 

“Jack,” said Ward, apparently ignoring his decla- 
ration, “what did you get Professor Mike’s keys for 
yesterday ? ’ ’ 

“What did I get Mike’s keys for? ” repeated Jack, 
a look of astonishment creeping over his face as he 
spoke. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t 
had his keys. ’ ’ 

His astonishment apparently was sincere and for the 
first time Ward’s heart misgave him. Could it be that 
he had been mistaken? But there was the janitor’s 
own declaration. He himself had said he had loaned 
the keys to Jack, and certainly he could have no mo- 
tive in saying so if it had not been true. He had 
implicated himself by the statement as it was, and had 
openly confessed to violating one of the strictest of Dr. 
Gray’s rules by doing so. No, Mike must have told 
the truth ; there could be no other explanation. 

“You haven’t had Mike’s keys? ” said Ward, slowly 
turning and looking Jack full in the face. 

“No ; honor bright, I haven’t had ’em, Ward. No, 
hold on ! Let me see ! Come to think of it, I did ask 
him for them yesterday, that’s a fact, but I’d forgotten 
all about it till you brought it back to my benighted 
mind. * ’ 

“Oh, then you did have them,” said Ward bitterly, 
not able to repress the sneer on his face as he spoke. 


90 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Why, yes,” said Jack. “The way of it was this, 
I was over by West Hall. The fact is, Ward, I was 
there to get you to go down to the ball ground. One 
of the boys wanted to get a bat which was up in my 
room, but Luscious had my keys and I asked Mike for 
his. There was no harm in that, was there, Ward ? * ’ 

“Who was the fellow that you gave them to, or did 
you go yourself? ” 

“No, I didn’t go myself; but I see there’s some- 
thing wrong, so I don’t believe I ought to tell you who 
the chap was. I’m afraid there’s something off color.” 

“Very well,” said Ward ; “of course you can do as 
you please about that. I think, though, I may be able 
to get along without your information. You’d made 
so many protests that you were my friend that I didn’t 
know but you’d be willing to help me out in this. But 
I sha’n’t trouble you if you don’t want to tell me.” 

Ward could see a look of pain come over Jack’s face 
as he spoke, but his own heart was hard and bitter, and 
apparently he cared but little for the effect his words 
might produce. 

“I say, Ward, old fellow,” said Jack quietly, “don’t 
talk like that. It hurts me. I was just going to say 
something to you, but the way you act makes me think 
you wouldn’ t care to hear it. ’ ’ 

They were now at the entrance to the recitation 
room and the conversation naturally ceased. Ward was 
sadly perplexed. Jack’s astonishment and evident pain 
at his words troubled him greatly. 

Jack was willing to enter into conversation when the 


PERPLEXITY 


91 


recitation was over, but Ward hastened out of the room 
and gave him no opportunity. The truth was he was 
so troubled by Jack’s manner that he was afraid he 
would give in to him and in his anger he had resolved 
not to do that. 

When he opened the door into his room, his anger 
knew no bounds when again he discovered that the 
room was in confusion. Twice during the rest of that 
week the same thing occurred, and both Ward and 
Henry were desperate. Something must be done. 

“ Mike,” said Ward sharply to the janitor, whom he 
met alone in the hall on Friday afternoon, “our room 
is stacked every day and you’re no good as a watch. 
I believe some one has taken the key to my room from 
your ring. Look and see, will you ? ’ ’ 

The ‘ ‘ professor of dust and ashes ’ ’ fumbled at the 
huge bunch he carried, and very much crestfallen at 
last said, “ Indade and yer right, Mister Ward. The 
key’s not here at all, at all.” 

“That’s what I thought. Now see if ‘ twenty- three * 
is gone too.” Twenty-three was the number of Little 
Pond’s room. 

“ Be jabbers and that’s gone too. Ye’ll not be after 
tellin’ the principal, will yez?” said Mike anxiously. 

“I don’t know. I’ll see about that later. Mike, 
can you put a new lock on my door and on Pond’s this 
afternoon ? I mean while we’ re here and no one will 
see you at the work ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Indade, and I can that, ’ ’ replied the anxious 
janitor. 


92 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Well, do it then right away. I’ve got a plan for 
catching the rascals and I want the new lock on right 
off. If you can do that now, it will help me and I 
sha’ n’ t have to see the doctor. ’ ’ 

Mike departed and returned with two new locks, 
which he at once placed on the doors, Ward meanwhile 
keeping watch to see that the work of the janitor was 
not discovered, and cautioning him about keeping his 
duplicate key. 

With a feeling of elation, Ward at once prepared 
to put his newly formed plan into execution. 


CHAPTER IX 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK 

W ARD at once left his room and went to search 
for Little Pond. He met the lad coming across 
the campus, and in response to his invitation, the little 
fellow immediately returned with him, and for a long 
time they sat together in Pond’s room and talked over 
the plan which Ward had formed. 

“You see it’s this way,” said Ward. “We can’t let 
this thing go on forever, for it’s beginning to tell on us 
already. What with setting the room to rights and 
never knowing what to expect, it doesn’t leave very 
much time for studying, and that’s what I want this 
term. Now Mike has put a new lock on my door and 
on yours too, so these fellows won’t be able to break 
in for a day or two, anyway. ’ ’ 

“Then I don’t see what you can do,” said Pond. 
“If they can’t get in, they can’t do any mischief, and 
if they don’t do any mischief, you can’t catch them.” 

“That’s all true; but what I want is to find out 
who the fellows are. I know well enough now, but I 
want the proof, you see. Now, my plan is this. They 
won’t have any keys to the new locks, so they can’t get 
in now if they try, and I don’t think they’ll try to-day. 
But to-morrow is Saturday, and in the afternoon we 

93 


94 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


don’t have any recitations, you know. Well, I’m going 
off up to the glen to-morrow afternoon and I’ll take 
pains to let it be known that I sha’n’t be in my room. 
That’ll leave the coast all clear, you see, and I think 
somebody will be pretty sure to come up and try to get 
in while I’m away. Then I want you to stay in your 
room and keep watch. You can have your door just a 
little bit ajar, and whenever you hear any one coming 
up the stairs, you can keep an eye on them. You can 
see them without being seen yourself, and if they go 
and try to get in my room, or come up to yours, why, 
then we’ll know who it is that’s doing the work, though 
I don’t think there’s any difficulty now in picking out 
the ones who have been the prime movers in it.” 

“All right, Ward,” replied Pond ; “I’ll do it.” 

“You see it’s as much to your advantage as it is to 
mine,” said Ward, as he rose to depart. “We don’t 
want this thing kept up any longer, and I think if we 
can catch the fellows now, we’ll put an end to it, though 
it may break out somewhere else in a worse way. ’ ’ 

Satisfied with what he had done, Ward ran down the 
stairs, and just as he was unlocking the door of his 
room, Henry and Jack Hobart came up together into 
the hall. Ward’s first impulse was to turn and leave 
the building. He had no desire to meet Jack then, 
but quickly changing his purpose, he unlocked the door 
and waited for the two boys to enter. 

“ Hello, Ward ! ” said Jack. “We’ve been talking 
about you, and finally decided we’d better stop that 
and come straight over here and talk to you. ’ ’ 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK 


95 


Ward made no reply, and as Henry was apparently 
busied in arranging the papers and books on his table, 
Jack felt that the burden of the conversation was resting 
upon himself. 

Ward noticed that he was somewhat constrained in 
his manner, nor was he displeased to see it. For was 
not Jack the one who had obtained Mike’s key? And 
while he might not be the one who had wrought the 
mischief in his room, still he was so thoroughly satisfied 
in his own mind that Jack was aware of what was going 
on and had lent his influence to further it, that it was 
with something of a feeling of satisfaction he noted the 
evident uneasiness of his visitor. 

“The way of it is this,” said Jack, breaking in upon 
the awkward silence. “We need you on the nine, 
Ward, there’s no mistake about that. If we are going 
to have any show against the Burrs this fall, we’ve just 
got to have your help. There’s no mistake about that, 
and that’s what I’ve come over to talk with you about. ” 

“Did Tim Pickard send you?” asked Ward, making 
no effort to conceal the sneer on his face. 

“No,” said Jack quietly, “and that’s where the 
mischief comes in. There’s no doubt that Tim’s down 
on you, Ward. You don’t need me to tell you that.” 

“Hardly.” 

“But Tim isn’t the whole of the Weston school. 
It’s true he’s got a lot of the fellows under his thumb 
and they’ll do just what he tells them to. That’s the 
way he succeeded in shutting you off from the nine. 
He pretended to call a meeting, but he never told 


96 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Henry here nor me about it. He claims he had a 
majority there and that they voted not to have you on 
the nine this fall. He couldn’t have done it if we’d 
been there, and Tim knows it too. ’ ’ 

Ward still made no reply save to glance at Jack, who 
was now talking eagerly and apparently had overcome 
his recent feeling of embarrassment. 

“Henry and I have been talking it over,” continued 
Jack, “and we’ve about decided that we’ve found a 
way out, and that’s what I came over especially to 
explain. Now, Ward, if you’ll go in with us I think 
we’ll have it fixed up in no time.” 

“I can’t go in when I don’t know what it is you 
want me to go into.” 

“It’s this, Ward. Henry and I have decided that 
we sha’n’t play on the nine unless you are taken on 
too. ’ ’ 

“What?” said Ward abruptly. 

He could hardly believe the words he had just heard. 
That Jack, who had taken Professor Mike’s key, and 
who plainly must be aware of the troubles which were 
besetting him now on every side, should be the one to 
make such a proposition as that to which he had just 
listened seemed to Ward almost incredible. It would 
completely change every plan in his mind if Jack meant 
what he had said, and so far as appearances went, the 
boy seemed to be thoroughly in earnest. 

“ Yes, ” said J ack, ‘ ‘ that’ s just what I mean. I don’ t 
believe that even Tim would care to lose both Henry 
and me just now, for he’d know he’d have the whole 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK 


97 


school down on him at once. It’s bad enough to lose 
you, and there are a lot of the fellows who don’ t like it 
a little bit. Tim knows it, but he won’t let on. Now, 
if Henry and I just quit too, it’ll place Tim in a box 
too tight even for him. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Then your plan is to force Tim to take me on the 
nine by threatening to leave yourselves if he doesn’t, is 
it?” said Ward slowly. 

‘ ‘ That’s it, that’s it,” said Jack eagerly. “He’ll 
have to come to time then.” 

“Well, I don’t think I shall do it,” said Ward delib- 
erately. “Not that I shouldn’t like to play on the nine. 
I’m not foolish enough to deny that, for I should, of 
course ; but I don’t care to force myself in where I’m 
not wanted.” 

“That isn’t it, Ward,” said Jack still more eagerly. 
“You are wanted — that is, nearly every fellow in the 
school wants you except Tim Pickard. Now, the ques- 
tion is whether you’re going to let one fellow like Tim 
stand against the whole school. Why, I think even Lus- 
cious will go into the scheme and help squeeze Tim. ’ ’ 

Ward felt that in spite of all his efforts his heart was 
becoming softer. Always susceptible to praise, the 
words of Jack were like balm to his troubled soul. He 
longed, far more than any one knew, to be at peace 
with the boys, and if once he were restored to his posi- 
tion on the nine, he felt confident he could easily regain 
his popularity. 

But his anger at Tim was still strong, though Jack 
puzzled him sadly. Could it be that he had a share in 
G 


98 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


the schemes which were then afoot? The mystery of 
the stolen key certainly indicated something of the kind, 
and yet with all his faults Jack Hobart would not lie, 
Ward felt assured of that. The thought of Jack’s hon- 
esty suddenly brought Ward to a quick determination. 
He would speak to him without reserve of his troubles 
and see how he received his words. 

“ Jack,” he said abruptly, “did you know that we’d 
had our room stacked almost every day since we came 
back to Weston ? ” 

“No,” said Jack in genuine surprise; “I didn’t 
know a thing about it. You’ve kept it to yourself 
pretty well, not even to mention it to me.” 

“ Well, it’s been stacked, that’s sure. I think we’ve 
spent more time tacking down our carpet and setting 
up our beds than we have in studying; haven’t we, 
Henry? ” 

Henry glanced up in surprise that Ward should men- 
tion their trouble, but he smiled and nodded his head 
by way of reply, though he did not speak. 

“Ward, that’s tough,” said Jack soberly. “I’m 
sorry you didn’t tell me about it, for maybe I could 
have helped you. Have you any idea who it is that’s 
doing it ? ” 

“Yes,” said Ward sharply; “but I’m only waiting 
for positiye proof, and I think I’m close on to the track 
of that. One thing I’ve found out for sure, and that’s 
some help. ’ ’ 

“ What’s that? ” 

“ Oh, nothing much. Only that Mike has lost two 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK 


99 


of his keys and we know who. took them. It wasn’t 
very much of a trick to find that out, you know.” 
Ward spoke quietly, but he was watching keenly to 
see what the effect of his words upon Jack would be. 

Suddenly Jack looked up and his face flushed deeply. 
“Ward,” said he, “ was that the reason you asked me 
the other day if I had borrowed Mike’s bunch of keys ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ward quietly. 

“Well, old fellow, I don’t know what I can say, if 
you really think I’d do such a thing. I did ask for the 
loan of the keys, that’s a fact, but I didn’t use them 
myself.” Jack acted as if he were about to say more, 
but hesitated and became silent. 

Ward was puzzled and his manner clearly betrayed 
the fact. The silence in the room was decidedly awk- 
ward for all concerned, and the boys shifted uneasily 
in their seats. 

Jack was the first to speak, as he said: “It looks 
queer, I know, Ward, but I don’t want to tell you who 
took the keys. There’s something crooked, and I’m 
going to help you out of the scrape if I can. I’d tell 
you in a minute, I would honestly, who took the keys 
from me, but I am just sure he didn’t stack your room. 
But I’ll help you find out and I’ll help you straighten 
out the fellow too. ’ ’ 

“I think the ‘Tangs’ may have had something to 
do with it,” said Ward. 

It was the first time the name of the secret organiza- 
tion had been mentioned since he had left school at 
the close of the preceding year. Somehow it had been 


IOO 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


a tabooed subject and neither had referred to it in their 
letters or conversation. Jack had considered it a sub- 
ject on which Ward might be somewhat sensitive, and 
Ward had been uncertain as to what Jack’s plans would 
be. 

“What makes you think the ‘Tangs’ had anything 
to do with it? ” said Jack, after a pause of a moment, 
in which the uneasiness of the boys was still marked. 

“ Because I received one of their gentle little epistles 
before this trouble began.” 

“I haven’t heard a word of the ‘Tangs’ since I 
came back to school,” said Jack thoughtfully. “ I 
didn’t know they’d started up again, and I’m sure I 
hoped the thing was dead. It is dead so far as I’m 
concerned, for I’ve washed my hands of the whole 
business. I told Tim so before I came back to school, 
and if he knows when he’s well off he’ll let it alone 
too. He’s got enough to do to keep himself straight 
with the faculty without going into the ‘ Tangs ’ again. 
But, Ward, I mean just what I say; I’m going to take 
off my coat and help you to find out about this matter, 
and if we once catch the fellow we’ll give him a dose 
that’ll cure him, I know.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t appear to be very enthusiastic,” said 
Jack quietly. 

It was evident that he was hurt by Ward’s apparent 
lack of confidence in him ; but his affection for his 
friend was so genuine and strong that he plainly was 
not to be put off by any of Ward’s rebuffs. 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK IOI 

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Jack as he rose 
to depart. “What I want to know now is whether 
you’ll come down on the ball-ground to-morrow after- 
noon, and then Henry and I’ll speak our little piece to 
Tim and we’ll have it out. Tim’ 11 give in, I know he 
will, for he isn’t over happy as it is. He knows how a 
good many of the fellows feel, and besides that he wants 
the nine strengthened.” 

“I can’t do it, Speck,” said Ward at last, using the 
familiar nickname by which he had been accustomed to 
call his friend, for the first time in several days. “It’s 
mighty good of you; but, you see, I just couldn’t go 
on the nine in any such way as that. ’ ’ 

“Then Henry and I’ll quit too,” said Jack em- 
phatically. 

“No, you won’t. That would certainly spoil it all. 
I want you both to keep right on. There’s no neces- 
sity for you to give up because I can’t go in, and be- 
sides I’ve something else in mind just now, and if you 
both leave it’ll spoil it all. I couldn’t come down to- 
morrow, anyway, for I’ve planned to go and spend the 
afternoon up at the glen. Honest, Speck, I do thank 
you for your offer. It’s mighty good of you, but I 
don’t want you to do it yet, anyway. Maybe a little 
later I’ll come in, but not just yet.” 

“All right, Ward. Have it your own way. You 
always do, somehow. Well, I must go over and see 
how Luscious is making out. He’s a fine fellow. Lus- 
cious is, and he’s going to push you for the valedic, as 
sure’s you live.” 


102 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“He’s a good worker ; any one can see that,” said 
Ward as Jack departed. 

“The plot thickens,” he added turning to Henry. 
“For the life of me I can’t see the way out as yet.” 

“ I feel sure of one thing,” said Henry, “and that 
is, that Jack’s had nothing to do with it.” 

“I hope you’re right,” replied Ward thoughtfully; 
“but it’s strange about those keys.” 

“Yes; but Jack can explain it, and he will before 
long.” 

Ward then explained the plan he had formed with 
Little Pond, and Henry agreed with him that it would 
be better for him and Jack to go down to the ball- 
ground, in view of what Ward had it in mind to do, 
and to appear as if they were not suspicious of any 
one or of any thing. 

Accordingly, on the following afternoon Ward started 
out with Big Smith for a tramp to the glen, one of the 
favorite resorts of the Weston boys. He had taken 
pains to speak of his intended absence in the hearing 
of several of the boys of whom he had felt somewhat 
suspicious, and after having conferred with Little Pond, 
who promised to observe all his directions, the two boys 
departed from West Hall. 

Ward’s heart was much lighter than it had been for 
several days now. Puzzled as he was over Jack’s part 
in the affair, the evident affection he had recently dis- 
played led Ward to believe that still he was not entirely 
without friends. Even Big Smith was not to be des- 
pised, and Ward was surprised to observe the many 


AN INTERVIEW WITH JACK 


03 


changes which had come over the strange lad. His as- 
sumption had not entirely disappeared, and his former 
complete ignorance that there was any one else in the 
world of quite as much importance as he, was not yet 
all gone. But Big Smith was learning some of the les- 
sons which in another form Ward Hill himself was also 
compelled to learn. 

That morning Doctor Gray in his chapel talk had 
referred to the story of Wellington, when at one time 
he had visited the great English school at Eton, and 
after watching the eager crowd of boys in their struggles 
and games, had said, “ Here Waterloo was won.” 

Ward was thinking of the words all that afternoon. 
If Wellington had really won the victory of Waterloo 
at Eton, then Napoleon must have lost it under simi- 
lar conditions, he thought, and he wondered whether 
Weston might not be solving some such problems also. 
As for himself, Ward Hill fully appreciated the fact that 
he was in the midst of a struggle, and to the lad’s credit 
be it said, out of it all came a stronger determination 
that his battle should not be lost. 

He had enjoyed the afternoon thoroughly, and when 
he returned he ran eagerly up to Little Pond’ s room 
to learn whether he had discovered anything or not. 

“Yes,” said Pond, “I’ve found out somethings. 
Come in and I’ll tell you all about it.” 

Ward eagerly followed his little friend into his room, 
and taking a seat, turned to listen to what Pond had to 
tell him. 


CHAPTER X 


THE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM 

‘ ‘ T KEPT the door open a little, ’ ’ began Pond, ‘ ‘ so 
1 that I could hear any one who might come up 
the stairs. Most of the fellows were down on the ball- 
ground or had gone off on the hills, so there wasn’t 
very much going on. I think I’d been waiting more 
than an hour before I heard a sound that was in any 
way suspicious, and I’ll own up I began to be a little 
tired. I thought there wasn’t any one going to come 
and I’d about made up my mind there wasn’t any use 
in watching any longer, and I was just about to get a 
book and go to reading when I heard a step on the 
lower stairway. Of course there wasn’t anything very 
bad in that, for I knew some of the fellows would be 
running in and out on a half-holiday, but there was 
something a little strange in this particular case. The 
fellow would come up two or three steps — and he didn’t 
make very much noise about it either — and then he’d 
stop a minute before he came on. ’ ’ 

“Was there only one?” inquired Ward, deeply inter- 
ested in what Pond was relating. 

“ Only one then. Well, the fellow came up to the 
floor on which your room is and then he stopped. I 
couldn’t see him of course, as he’d gone up to your 
104 


THE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM 105 

door, I judged. I didn’t just know what to do, and 
when I’d made up my mind to go out and take a peep 
over the railing, I heard the fellow come back to the 
head of the stairs and give a low whistle. You’d better 
believe I was excited about that time, but I managed 
somehow to keep quiet and wait. Pretty soon another 
fellow came up the stairs, and then I heard them go 
through the hall and stop, as I thought, before your 
door. ’ ’ 

“Go on, go on,” said Ward quickly, as Pond seemed 
to hesitate a moment. 

“ Well, I crept out of my room, and I wasn’t making 
very much noise either, you can believe, and as I went 
down the stairway a few steps, trying hard all the time 
to keep perfectly quiet, I bent over and took a peep at 
your hall. There were two chaps right in front of your 
door. ’ ’ 

“What were they doing? ” 

‘ ‘ They were working at the lock with a key which 
one of them took out of his pocket. Somehow the key 
didn’t work very well, for I’ve a notion that Mike 
hadn’t told them about the new locks he’d put on your 
door and mine.” 

“Too bad,” said Ward. “Well, what did they do 
then?” 

“ One of them happened to look up and he saw me 
peeking at them. I tried to dodge back so that they 
couldn’t see me, but I was too late ; they’d spied me. 
They made a rush through the hall and up the stairs to 
my room, but I’d got inside before they’d come, and 


io6 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


bolted the door. They coaxed and teased me to open 
up for ’em, but I wasn’t to be caught by any such chaff 
as that, and then they began to threaten me with all 
sorts of terrible things. They tried too, to open my 
door with a key, but it wasn’t of any use, and if they 
had had a key that would have fitted the lock it 
wouldn’t have helped them any, for the door was 
bolted on the inside, you see.” 

“Who were the fellows? ” 

‘ ‘ One of ’ em was Ripley ; he rooms over in East I 
think, but I didn’t know who the other was. I could 
tell him if I saw him again, though, I’ m sure of that. ’ ’ 

Ward sat silent for a moment. He knew Ripley well. 
He was in the class below him. He had never re- 
garded him as a vicious boy, and the worst thing he 
knew about him was that he belonged to the “Tangs.” 
He also recalled the fact that he was a great admirer of 
Tim Pickard, and while he was not an intimate friend, 
he had seen him many times in Tim’s company. He 
was a boy Tim could easily influence and would follow 
any orders the leader might give him. 

The mystery was becoming somewhat cleared now. 
Doubtless Tim was the one to whom Jack had given 
Mike’s bunch of keys, and he had not only gone to 
Jack’s room and obtained the bat they wanted, but he 
had taken the keys to Ward’s and Pond’s rooms from 
the ring at the same time. It was all clear now, and 
Ward felt a great relief as he satisfied himself that Jack 
was innocent of any knowledge or share in the stacking 
of his room. 


HE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM 107 

“You’ve done well, Little Pond,’’ said Ward warmly, 
as he rose to depart. “I think we can put a stop to 
this particular line of fun now. I think I’ll go over and 
begin the operation at once.” 

“Where are you going, Ward? Can’t I go with 
you ? ’ ’ called Little Pond from the head of the stair- 
way ; but Ward was already in the lower hall and made 
no reply. He wanted to be alone now and while his 
heart was hot within him to carry out the further plan 
he had already quickly formed. 

The eager boy walked swiftly across the campus 
toward East Hall. He was not at all sure that he 
would find Ripley in his room, but he would at least 
find out whether he was or not, and as the bell for sup- 
per would soon be rung he wished to do that much 
before he went to the dining hall. 

As he drew near East Hall he saw a crowd of boys 
returning from the ball-ground. Their presence in the 
building might greatly complicate matters, so he in- 
creased his speed and leaping up two steps at a time he 
ran up the stairs to the third floor and rapped on the 
door of Ripley’s room. 

Ripley himself opened the door, but as soon as he 
saw who his caller was, he tried to shut the door in his 
face. Ward, however, was too quick for him, and slipped 
into the room, and then he himself shut the door and 
instantly bolted it. 

He was thoroughly angry now. Ripley plainly be- 
trayed his guilt and alarm by his manner, and as Ward 
looked at him a moment in silence the first impulse in 


io8 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


his heart was to mete out a summary and just punish- 
ment for the sneaking outrage of which he had been 
guilty. 

As Ward glanced about the well-furnished room and 
contrasted it with his own somewhat bare apartments in 
West Hall, his bitterness increased. Was it not enough 
that he should be compelled to go without many of the 
things which such a fellow as Ripley had for the asking, 
without also having to suffer all the petty annoyances 
which the latter chose to inflict upon him ? His anger 
was clearly manifest, for the troubled lad was in a tow- 
ering rage, and as he realized that the boy he thought 
had stacked his room so many times was at last in his 
power, his first and natural impulse was to express his 
feelings in a manner which Ripley might not enjoy, but 
which he would certainly remember. 

Ripley evidently was alarmed. His pale face and 
trembling hands plainly revealed that. He stood 
watching his caller, and not a word had as yet been 
spoken. 

Suddenly Ripley started toward the open window. 
Ward instantly suspected that he was about to call to 
the crowd of boys who were then on the ground below 
and stood talking together near the entrance. 

Before the boy could reach the place, however, or 
open his lips to call to his friends, Ward leaped before 
him, and standing with his back to the window, he said 
to the frightened lad before him : 

“None of that, Ripley; keep away from these win- 
dows. I’ll fix it so that they won’t do you any good,” 


THE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM 109 

he quickly added, as he instantly turned and removed 
the prop which held the window up. The sash fell 
and Ripley perceived that it would be useless to call for 
help, and that he stood alone before the angry young 
senior. 

“Now, Ripley, I’ve come over to have it out with 
you.” Ward spoke slowly and in a low tone of voice, 
but the very quietness of his manner increased the alarm 
of the boy before him. 

“I-I d-don’t know what you mean, Ward Hill; what 
have I done ? * ' 

“What have you done?” retorted Ward, his voice 
rising as his anger broke forth. “What haven’t you 
done? Who’s stacked my room almost every day? 
Who’s poured kerosene over my bedding? Who’s 
done the thousand and one contemptible things that no 
one but a sneak and a coward would ever think of do- 
ing? ” Ward’s anger was rapidly increasing and as he 
enumerated his woes, each fresh mention of them 
served to enrage him the more. 

“I never stacked your room, Ward Hill; I’ve never 
been in it since I’ve been in the Weston school ; I never 
touched your bedclothes or your lamp ; I haven’ t been 
in West Hall but once since I came back to school this 
fall. Honest, Ward, I’m telling you the truth ; I am, 
Ward. Won’t you believe me?” 

All the fear of the lad seemed to speak in his words 
and voice, and for a moment Ward was almost staggered. 
And yet had not Little Pond told him less than half an 
hour before that he had seen this very lad trying to get 


10 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


into his room? Had Pond been mistaken? No, it 
could not be possible. The very manner of Ripley 
betrayed his guilt. 

“Ripley,” said Ward more slowly, “you were seen 
in West Hall this very afternoon when you were trying 
to get into my room. You can’t deny that.” He 
waited a moment, but the boy before him did not 
speak. 

“If the truth was known,” continued Ward, “I be- 
lieve you’ve got the very key you tried to use in your 
pocket now. What were you doing there ? ” he added 
sternly. 

“I was there this afternoon, but it was my first 
turn — I mean the first time I’d been there. I haven’t 
been in West Hall before this term.” 

Ward hesitated. Possibly Ripley was speaking truly. 
He knew that Tim was shrewd and it might be that he 
had used different boys to do his bidding at various 
times. The expression which Ripley had unconsciously 
let slip, that it was his first turn, might be understood 
in that light. However, his disposition had been 
clearly manifest, even by his own confession, and 
Ward’s feeling of anger instantly returned. 

“Ripley, you’ve got that key to my room I believe 
in your pocket now. Hand it over to me and I’ll let 
you off this time.” 

“ Not if I know myself,’*- replied Ripley his courage 
having evidently in a measure returned as he perceived 
Ward’s momentary hesitation. 

“You won’t give it to me?” 


THE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM I I I 

“No, I won’t give it to you,” replied Ripley still 
more boldly. 

“Then I’ll take it.’’ 

And as he spoke Ward quickly sprang forward and 
grasped the boy by the shoulder. 

Instantly all of Ripley’s fears returned. Before 
Ward fairly realized what was occurring he had emitted 
three or four shrieks for help. 

“ Help ! help ! Come ! come ! Help me ! Help ! 
Help!’’ 

If Ward had not been so angry and startled by the 
unexpected sounds he would have laughed. He had 
not harmed the boy, for he had only grasped him 
roughly by the shoulder. But evidently Ripley was 
thoroughly alarmed by Ward’s manner and believed 
that his last hour had come. 

In a moment there was a rush of boys up the stair- 
way and they were pounding upon the door eagerly 
striving to open it or break it in. 

Taking advantage of Ward’s momentary confusion, 
Ripley slipped from his grasp and hastily drew back the 
bolt of the door and flung it wide open. A dozen or 
more boys rushed into the room, Tim Pickard at their 
head, and stopped a moment in surprise as they gazed 
at the two boys. 

Scarcely a word had been uttered, however, before 
Ward heard some one speaking in the doorway. He 
instantly recognized the voice as that of Mr. Crane, 
and his anger gave way to a feeling of embarrassment. 

“What’s the meaning of this?’’ said Mr. Crane 


I 12 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


quietly, though his manner was somewhat stern. “I 
want you all to go immediately to your own rooms. ’ ’ 

The boys started to obey at once, Ward being the 
last to pass Mr. Crane, who stood holding the door 
open for them to go through. 

“I’m surprised, Hill,” he said quietly as Ward passed 
him. “You will come and explain this later to me, I 
am sure.” 

“I’m ready to explain it now,” said Ward eagerly. 

“Not now, Hill,” said Mr. Crane, smiling for the 
first time as he marked the eagerness of the lad. 
“Come over to-morrow evening.” 

“I’ll come,” said Ward quickly. “I don’t want 
you to think too badly of me, Mr. Crane.” 

“And I don’t want to. I hardly think I shall have 
to,” he added, as he noted Ward’s manner. 

‘ ‘ May I go down to Speck’ s room now — I mean 
Jack’s — I mean Jack Hobart’s? ” 

“Yes, if you think it will be safe,” said Mr. Crane 
quietly. “From the sounds that came from this room 
I thought that murder at least was being committed, 
and I don’t want to hear a repetition of these ear-split- 
ting screeches.” 

Ward left the teacher and going down to Jack’s room 
was speedily admitted. Then he soon related the en- 
tire story before Jack and his chum Berry. 

The boys listened soberly and when at last the story 
was ended, Jack said : “Well, Ward, it’s a relief to me 
that you’ve dug the thing out. You made one mistake, 
though. ’ ’ 


THE SCENE IN RIPLEY’S ROOM 


I 13 


“What’s that? ” 

“You ought never to have tried to chastise Ripley 
when he was in East Hall. Don’ t you know by this 
time that there’s no fooling in any building Mr. Crane 
has charge of?’’ 

* ‘ I wasn’ t going to chastise Ripley. All I was going 
to do was to take the key away from him. Of course 
that isn’t any good, now that there’s a new lock on my 
door • but it would be positive proof that Ripley had a 
hand in it, you see.’’ 

“And what good would that do you, I’d like to 
know ? Suppose you did have the proof ; you wouldn’ t 
take it over to the doctor, would you ? ” 

“No, I don’t suppose I would,’’ said Ward slowly. 

‘ ‘ I never told on a fellow yet. ’ ’ 

“And you’re not going to begin now. It’s hard lines 
for you, old fellow, I know that as well as you do ; but 
it’s just one of the things a chap’s got to straighten out 
for himself. He can’t report it, you know ; that would 
only make a bad matter worse. ’ ’ 

“I suppose you’re right,’’ said Ward soberly. He 
was thinking of his evening interview with Mr. Crane. 
He had intended to relate the circumstances just as 
they were, and felt positive that the teacher would 
sympathize with him rather than blame him. 

Jack’s words, however, he at once realized were true. 
In accordance with the false code of honor of the 
school, he could not cure his evils by seeking outside 
help. And the boys he knew were merciless in carrying 
out their own ideas of justice and honor. 

H 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


114 

“No, Ward ; you’ve got to look at it just as it is. 
Some of the fellows are down on you, but I don’t be- 
lieve it’ll last. I don’t honestly. How can it with 
such a fellow as I know Ward Hill to be ? It’s against 
all reason. ’ * 

“And meanwhile I’m to sit down meekly and thank 
these fellows who upset my room every day, am I ? ” 

“ Not at all. Not at all. But Ripley isn’t the one to 
blame. You’ve got to go to the fountain head of all 
the trouble, as Dr. Gray so kindly informs us everyday 
in the chapel.” 

“Well, Tim Pickard’s the one at the bottom of it 
all,” said Ward. 

“So he is, my young friend, and he’s the one to fix. 
Now I’m sure, with the help of Luscious here and 
your humble servant, you can do it, and do it this very 
night too.” 

“I don’t see how,” said Ward gloomily. 

“No you don’t; but if you’ll listen with both ears 
I’ll explain the little project I have in mind, and soon 
the weary valedic will put his enemies to flight, or words 
to that effect.” 

And Jack at once began to explain his “project.” 


CHAPTER XI 


JACK HOBART’S PROJECT 

T HERE’S no other way out of it,” began Jack, 
‘ ‘ except for you to take the matter into your 
own hands, Ward. You can’t report it to the teachers, 
and you can’t be expected to let it go on without doing 
something to protect yourself. I think even Mr. Crane 
wouldn’t expect anything less than that of you.” 

“ But I don’t see just what I’m to do,” protested 
Ward. “ Of course I know now that Tim Pickard is 
the one who’s stirring the trouble up, though I’ve been 
satisfied all the time that he was the ringleader. I 
don’t see what I can do, unless I fight him.” 

“That’s one way out of it,” replied Jack, who per- 
haps was not entirely averse to a settlement of troubles 
by that primitive and brutal method. “ But you don’t 
need to do that just yet. You can hold that till later, 
though I’m not sure but you might save yourself a deal 
of trouble by pitching into Tim now. It may have to 
come to that in the end. Still, I think it would be 
better to try my plan first. ’ ’ 

Ward smiled as he thought of Jack in the role of a 
peacemaker. He appreciated fully Jack’s spirit and 
life, and he well knew how he enjoyed anything that 
partook of the nature of tests of physical strength in 

«5 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


I 16 

the school. His last words, in which with apparent 
reluctance he had counseled his friend to postpone the 
method his boyish heart decidedly preferred, had been 
spoken in a tone which made Berry laugh aloud. 

“ Let’s hear your plan, Jack,” said Ward. 

“It’s nothing more than giving Tim a dose of his 
own medicine.” 

“What do you mean? that I’m to stack his room?” 

“ That’s exactly my meaning. You grasp it quickly, 
as Mr. Blake sometimes tells me — no, I mean you, 
Ward — in his classes. Yes, sir, that’s the thing for you 
to do, for it’s the only thing a fellow like Tim Pickard 
will appreciate. ‘ Hoist with his own petard.’ Isn’t 
that something you’ve heard somewhere, sometime?” 

4 ‘ I think I have heard the expression before. How 
am I to do it, Jack? ” 

“ Just as easily as falling off a log. Tim rooms down 
at Ma Perrins’, as you know, and has a room all to him- 
self. Now to-night after supper, my friend here, Lus- 
cious, will send for him to come up to our room. I 
think it very likely that Luscious will have something 
to say about the nine, and Tim won’t wait long after 
hearing that Luscious Berry has something to say about 
that, for if he’s interested in anything it’s the work and 
the prospects of the nine, you know.” 

“Yes, I know,” replied Ward somewhat gloomily. 
Tim Pickard’s work and interest in the nine was a sub- 
ject on which he had very strong feelings at that time. 

“ Well, Luscious will get him up here and he’ll hold 
him with his glittering eye, a la ancient mariner, 


jack hobart’s project i i 7 

and he’ll have so many bright speeches to make, that 
Tim won’t be able to get away from him. Meanwhile 
you and I’ll step down to Tim’s room and rearrange 
it for him, don’t you see? I’m going into this with 
you, Ward, and see if I can’t help you to put a stop to 
these rascally proceedings. ’ ’ 

“Yes, but ” 

“There isn’t a ‘but’ about it,” interrupted Jack. 
“ I know what you were going to say, but it isn’t worth 
saying, Ward. I know all the fine phrases about ‘ stoop- 
ing ’ and ‘ belittling yourself, ’ and all that sort of stuff, 
but it’s no time for indulging in such nonsense. Here 
you are bothered to death by Tim’s pranks. You don’t 
want to bother him, or have anything to do with him, 
for the matter of that. I understand all these things. 
But you can’t study; you won’t be the valedic ; you 
can’t report the trouble to the faculty. What can you 
do? Just nothing, but take the matter into your own 
hands and do the thing that will put a stop in the 
shortest time to all this nonsense. Do you see the 
point ? ’ ’ 

“ Yes, I see ” 

“Well, I’m glad for once in your life that you’re 
able to see the point. ’ ’ 

“And I’m glad that for once in your life you can 
make a point clear,” said Ward with a laugh. 

“Well done, my friend, I’ve hopes of you yet. 
Now, I say it’s all fair to feed Tim with his own food 
and from his own spoon. Why my father was telling 
me the last time I was home about a trick a fellow 


I I 8 WARD HILL — THE SENIOR 

named Bram Martling played in the ‘ neutral ground,’ 
away back in the Revolution. It seems that this same 
Bram, which is short as I understand it for Abraham, 
was a young officer in the Continental army, and once 
when he came home he found the Tories and British 
had been burning the houses around there just for the 
fun of seeing ’em burn, I fancy. Well, Bram was 
pretty well stirred up when he found out what was going 
on, so he just quietly got a dozen young fellows to- 
gether, and they met over by Wolfert’s Roost on the 
Hudson, and took two whaleboats and pulled down to 
Morningside Heights in the night. Then they crept 
up and set fire to Oliver De Lancy’s great house, and 
got away without one of them being caught. They 
thought ’twas a great deed in those days, and made 
out that the aforesaid Bram was quite a hero. But he 
stopped the Tories from burning houses after that, let 
me tell you. It makes all the difference in the world 
whether you are the burner or the burnee. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And you think ? ’ ’ 

“Be silent, my young friend. This fable, which I 
have just related for your special benefit, teaches that 
in bad things as well as in good it is much more pleas- 
ant to give than to receive. Now, for your own good, 
and for the good of Tim Pickard too, you are simply 
compelled to let him know just how good it is to have 
one’s room stacked. It must be done thoroughly and 
at once. Who was it that said, ‘if ’twere well done 
when it is done, then 'twere well if it were done 
quickly ’ ? ’ ' 


jack hobart’s project i 19 

“I guess it was Shakespeare,” said Ward laughing ; 
“ but you got the quotation twisted a bit. The way it 
reads is ’ ’ 

“Oh, bother the way it reads, you know what I 
mean. Now, Luscious, you tell Ward if you don’t 
think what I’ve said is true.” 

“I think, Ward,” said Berry, “that Jack’s right. 
I don’t see v that you can do anything else. You’ve 
got to put a stop to the racket and Jack’s plan is a good 
one.” 

For a moment Ward did not speak. Somehow he 
knew that Henry would not go into the scheme, and 
he had a very decided opinion that Mr. Crane would 
not approve. Indeed, the teacher had at one time 
said to him that it was a good deal better to suffer 
wrong than to do it. One wrong did not make another 
wrong right. Ward needed no one to tell him that. 

Yet there was the trouble all the time threatening to 
become worse and it was certainly bad enough as it was, 
and Henry and Little Pond were both made to suffer 
too for his unpopularity. Jack’s plan might work well. 
Who could say ? The specious reasoning of boys who 
would not intentionally do anything very bad also ap- 
pealed to him. 

But more than all was Jack’s evident friendship and 
interest. Ward was well aware of the risks the impul- 
sive lad would be incurring in entering into the project 
with him. Tim Pickard’s enmity in the Weston school 
was no light matter, and Jack, even mor.e than Ward, 
fed upon the good will of his companions. Jack might 


120 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


feel hurt if he should refuse now to enter into the pro- 
ject, when his only motive for proposing it had been the 
desire to aid him. Ward felt that he could not refuse. 

“Well, Jack,” he said at last, “Pm obliged to you, 
and I think your suggestion is worth trying.” 

“Good for you, old man,” said Jack eagerly, rising 
from his chair as he spoke. “Now, we’ll do it this 
very night. You go right up to your room just as soon 
as you’ve had your supper, and as soon as Luscious and 
I have had ours I’ll have him bring Tim back with him 
to our room. Then, when the coasts are clear, I’ll 
make a break for your room and we’ll soon fix Tim’s 
room out in great shape. There goes the bell now. 
Your afflictions will soon be over, the wicked will cease 
to trouble you, and the weary valedic will be at rest. ’ ’ 

The boys at once left East Hall, Ward going to the 
dining hall and Jack and Berry starting toward Mrs. 
Perrins’, where they both took their meals. 

Somehow, Ward had no feeling of elation. Again 
and again he tried to persuade himself that Jack’s 
scheme was all right and that now he would put an end 
to all his difficulties. But there were misgivings in his 
heart all the time. Try as he would to convince him- 
self that he was taking a legitimate and justifiable method 
of protecting himself, he could not shake off the feeling 
that if he should be discovered in the act, or if Mr. 
Crane should learn of it, the affair would appear in a 
far different light. 

However, he did not mention the plan or his own 
misgivings to his room-mate, and it was with a feeling of 


jack hobart’s project 


1 2 1 


relief he heard Henry say to him, when together they 
left the dining hall, “I’m going over to Dr. Gray’s a 
little while, Ward. Will you come too?” 

“No, I think not at present,” said Ward. “I guess 
I’ll go over to our room and keep out visitors. I don’t 
want to have to tack down carpets to-night.” 

“I don’t believe they’ll trouble us now that we’ve 
a new lock on the door,” said Henry, laughing as he 
spoke. He did not urge Ward to accompany him and 
soon departed. 

Ward walked slowly on toward West Hall and entered 
his room. He had not been there long before Jack 
came, and he at once followed him out of the building. 

“It’s all right, Ward,” said Jack eagerly. “Luscious 
has taken Tim up to our room and he’ll keep him there 
for an hour. ’ ’ 

“But how shall we get into his room?” inquired 
Ward. 

“Oh, that’s all easy enough. Ma doesn’t keep the 
front door locked, and if she happens to see me come 
in, she’ll only think I’ve come back for something I 
left. It’ll be all right; you needn’t have any fears 
about that. ’ ’ 

“Jack,” said Ward slowly, “I’ve been thinking this 
thing over and I don’t want you to get your fingers 
burned.” 

“That’s good of you,” and Jack laughed “Any 
one to hear you talk would think I was the fellow in 
trouble. Don’t bother your head about me. I’ll be 
all right. ’ ’ 


122 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“That isn’t just what I mean. I think you’d better 
stay down by the door or out in the hall and let me go 
up to Tim’s room alone. There isn’t any use in your 
going, and besides that, I think you can help more if 
you stay there and keep watch.” 

“Maybe you’re right,” replied Jack thoughtfully. 
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Ward, I’ll stay in the hall 
and wait for you to go up and fix the room and then 
I’ll come in for the finishing touches. I don’t believe 
you know how to do the thing up in the latest and most 
approved manner.” 

The boys were now in front of Mrs. Perrins’ house, 
and glancing quickly up and down the street to make 
sure that they were not observed, they quickly crossed 
over the street and approached the door. 

Having found this unlocked, they entered and stood 
for a moment in the hallway. One of the servants was 
in the dining room and glanced up at them as they came 
in, but at once recognizing Jack, she paid no further 
attention to them and went on with her duties. 

“It’s all right,” whispered Jack. “Go right up to 
Tim’s room, it’s the one right over the dining room, 
you know. I’ll be up too in a few minutes and help 
you to put the finishing touches on.” 

Ward turned and started at once up the stairway. 
A heavy carpet was on the floor and deadened the 
sound of his footsteps. The lad was excited and his 
heart was beating rapidly, but his presence was not dis- 
covered and he soon made his way swiftly and silently 
to the door of Tim’s room. 


jack hobart’s project 


123 


Suppose the door should be locked ! Ward had not 
thought of that, nor had Jack mentioned it. He almost 
wished that it was ; but as he turned the knob, the door 
opened and he at once entered, gently closing the door 
behind him. 

And now he was in Tim Pickard’s room. The lamp 
upon the table was burning, and the room seemed to be 
flooded with a soft and mellow light which served to 
increase the luxurious appearance of all about him. 

What an elegantly furnished room it was ! In spite 
of his excitement, Ward could not fail to notice that. 
Pictures were hanging on the walls, the floor had a 
rich, soft carpet upon it, a little fire was burning in the 
open grate, just sufficient to take away the chill of the 
early autumn air. The study table was covered with 
books and papers, the chairs were beautifully upholstered, 
and the bed, which stood in one corner of the room, 
was not much like the rude little affair in his own room, 
Ward thought. 

Indeed, for a moment Ward stopped and looked 
about him, deeply impressed by the contrast to his 
room in West Hall. And why should Tim Pickard, 
with all his money and comforts, wish to torment him 
by a series of petty and constant annoyances? 

The thought made Ward’s heart bitter and hard. It 
was unjust, mean, contemptible. Jack was right. The 
only way in which he could defend himself was to let 
Tim understand just what it meant for a fellow to have 
his room all upset. 

Hark ! What was that? Ward stopped and listened 


124 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


intently as he heard some one moving in the hall. 
Suppose he should be discovered in the room ! He 
felt like a thief. What could he say or do to explain 
his presence if he should be discovered? 

The sound of the footsteps passed and Ward breathed 
more freely. What he was to do, he must do quickly. 
Where should he begin ? He started toward the bed 
to tear that in pieces, but quickly changing his purpose, 
he turned again to the study table. That was the 
proper spot at which to begin. 

As he approached, the light of the lamp fell full upon 
the photograph of a woman’s face looking up at him 
from a beautiful frame on the table. It almost seemed 
to him as if the eyes could see him and were looking at 
him with a reproving, reproachful glance. That must 
be Tim’s mother, he thought. He knew that she was 
dead, for Tim had told him many a time of the fact 
that his father — “the governor,” as Tim called him — 
was the only one he had to look after him or to whom 
he had to report. 

Perhaps if his mother were alive, Tim would be a 
different fellow. It seemed to Ward, as he stood gazing 
at the picture, as if the woman were pleading with him. 
For a moment he thought of another woman in the far- 
away village of Rockford. His mother was living, and 
he had no such excuse as Tim had for failing to do 
what he knew was right. And how grieved she would 
be if she knew he had been stealing like a thief into 
another fellow’s room. Ward almost started, for it 
seemed as if he could hear the sound of her voice. 


jack hobart’s project 125 

And there was the face of Tim’s dead mother still 
looking up at him. 

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it! I’d be no better 
than Tim Pickard if I did. I’d be doing the very same 
thing which made me so mad when he did it,” groaned 
Ward. 

The troubled boy quickly turned to leave the room. 
Jack might think what he chose ; he simply could not 
bring himself to do what he had planned. 

As he approached the door, his heart seemed almost 
to cease to beat. Some one was coming. He could 
hear the footsteps as they came nearer the door. The 
frightened boy looked quickly about him for a place of 
concealment, but none could be found. In a moment 
the door was opened and Tim himself was standing 
before him with a look of mingled anger and astonish- 
ment plainly expressed upon his face. 


CHAPTER XII 


MR. CRANE’S WORDS 

“ \ T 7 HAT are you doing here ? ” said Tim angrily, 
V V as soon as he recovered from his surprise. 

“ I came over to stack your room.” 

‘‘You did? You did?” said Tim, as if he could 
hardly believe what he had heard. 

His astonishment arose not from the fact that Ward 
should have come for the purpose which he so calmly 
expressed, but from the fact that he should have stated 
it so boldly. The one part Tim could readily under- 
stand, but the other was something he could not com- 
prehend. To him there was but one explanation, and 
that was that Ward was somehow openly defying him, 
and Tim’s anger was correspondingly increased. 

With all his faults Tim Pickard was no coward, as the 
word is ordinarily used. That is, he had no fears of a 
physical contest, and as he stood in the doorway before 
him Ward readily perceived what a fine specimen of 
young manhood in its bodily form Tim was. Tall, with 
broad shoulders and with the fire and force of vigorous 
health manifest in every phase of his bearing, he would 
not be an antagonist whom most boys would care to 
meet. 

Ward himself was no weakling. Though he was not 
126 


MR. CRANE’S WORDS 


27 


so large as Tim, his compact and well-knit frame be- 
tokened physical powers of no mean order. And his 
quiet bearing served to increase the impression of his 
fearlessness too, and for a moment the two seniors stood 
quietly facing each other, each being conscious of the 
fact that a contest between them would be no light 
affair. 

“Well, why don’t you stack it then?” said Tim at 
last with a sneer. “Here’s the room and you’ve got 
my full consent to go ahead — if you can.” 

“I’m not going to stack it,” said Ward quietly. 

“ Oh, you’re not? Well, that’s kind of you, I must 
say,” laughed Tim. “Well, if you’re not going to 
stack it, will you leave or shall I put you out ? I don’ t 
want any sneaking hypocrite prowling around here. ’ ’ 

“ I shall leave, but you won’t put me out,” replied 
Ward, his face flushing as he spoke. 

“Well, leave then, will you? You can’t do it too 
soon to suit me.” 

Ward did not stir. 

Tim’s face flushed with anger and he advanced a 
step nearer the table, and Ward braced himself for the 
conflict which now appeared to be inevitable. 

Before anything could be done, however, the door 
was suddenly pushed open and Jack burst into the 
room. A hasty glance at the two boys revealed at once 
to him the condition of affairs, and taking a position 
between the two, he said : 

“ Here now, quit this, will you ? ” 

“You don’t suppose I’m going to sit down quietly 


128 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


and let a fellow go to work stacking my room, do you ? ” 
said Tim. “This sneak says that was just what he 
came for.” 

“ No, I don’t believe you’d do any such thing,” re- 
plied Jack ) “ neither do I think you would think Ward 
Hill would be likely to do any such thing, either. If 
he came over here to stack your room, it’s no more 
than you deserve, and he’d be only paying off old 
scores. ’ ’ 

“I never stacked his room,” replied Tim evasively. 

“No, you never had the nerve to do that openly, 
but you can set such fellows as Ripley and Choate and 
a lot of others up to it. Oh, you needn’t beg off, Tim 
Pickard. I know you through and through, and so 
does Ward Hill too ; and if he came over here to set 
your room up, he knows, and I know, and you know, 
and I know you know that we know, you’re only being 
paid off in your own coin. ’ ’ 

Tim was silent, and Jack quickly perceiving his ad- 
vantage, went on. “Now, look here, you fellows. 
You can’t get into any scrap here, not so long as I’m 
in the room. The first thing you know Ma Perrins 
would be at the door, and you know she would report 
the thing at once to Doctor Gray. Then what would 
happen? You, Tim, aren’t in very good shape for re- 
ceiving an invitation to come up and confer with him 
about ‘the best interests of the school,’ as he puts it. 
You know what would follow mighty sudden. And 
Ward here isn’t in just the best position in the world 
for a faculty meeting, though I think he’d be in a 


MR. CRANE’S WORDS 


129 


good deal better one than you, Tim, for he’s only try- 
ing to protect himself. Even a worm will turn, and I 
don’t believe Doctor Gray would blame a fellow too 
much for taking the law into his own hands and trying 
to put a stop to having his room stacked every day of 
his life.” 

“But I haven’t stacked his room, I’m telling you,” 
interrupted Tim. 

“ Oh, give that ancient and antiquated aphorism a 
period of relaxation, will you, Tim? That doesn’t 
work here, let me tell you. I know what I’m talking 
about. ’ ’ 

“But I don’t see what this sneak thinks he’s going 
to gain by stacking my room,” persisted Tim. “I 
shouldn’t have to set it up again myself. I’m no West 
Hall pauper. I don’t have to take care of my own 
room. Thank fortune, I’ve got some one to do my 
dirty work for me.” 

“Yes, that’s what you’re always doing, Tim Pick- 
ard,” retorted Jack angrily, as he saw Ward flush at 
the brutal words; “you’re always getting some one 
to do that for you. But let me tell you one thing, this 
stacking of Ward’s room has got to be stopped.” 

“ Who’s going to stop it, I’d like to know? ” replied 
Tim boldly. 

“Oh, there’s more than one way of doing that,” 
replied Jack quietly. “ Now, if you don’t want to be 
sent home again for good and all, you’ll see to it that 
Ward Hill’s room isn’t troubled again. That’s all I’ve 
got to say about it. ’ ’ 

1 


130 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


‘‘What’ll you do? Go and report it to Doctor 
Gray?” 

“I’m not telling what’ll be done, but I am telling 
you that it isn’t going to happen again. I know you 
and you know me, and you know too that I don’t 
talk for the fun of hearing my own voice. Come on, 
Ward,” he added, “you’ll not be bothered any more 
after this. Good-bye, Tim,” he called out as he and 
Ward together left the room. 

But Tim made no response. 

Neither of the boys spoke until they were in front 
of East Hall, then as Ward turned to go to his own 
room, Jack said, “What was the trouble? You had 
time enough to rip the carpet apart, to say nothing of 
upsetting everything in the room. ’ ’ 

“I can’t explain it, Jack ; I don’t know just why I 
didn’t, but I couldn’t do it, and that’s all there was 
about it. When I got into the room, it all came over 
me what a mean, contemptible thing it was, and how 
I felt toward Tim for his work in West Hall ; and on his 
table was a picture of his dead mother appearing to 
look reproachfully at me. It seemed to me that I 
couldn’t do it, and if I did I’d be doing the very thing 
that set me so against him. And so I couldn’t, and 
that’s all there is about it.” 

“You’re a queer chap,” said Jack thoughtfully. 
“I thought I knew you pretty well, but I’ve got to give 
you up, I’m afraid. Ma Perrins came out into the hall 
while I was on guard there, and as I saw she looked a 
little surprised to see me, I went into the parlor with 


MR. CRANE’S WORDS 


13 I 

her just to quiet her fears and give you a chance to put 
in your fine work. I was horrified when I saw Tim 
rush into the house like a young whirlwind, and before 
I could call to him he was up the stairs as if he’d been 
shot out of a gun. You’d better believe I cut short 
my interview with Ma and made a break for Tim’s 
room. I was half afraid I’d find only a few small 
pieces of you and Tim left, and that I’d have to beg 
the loan of one of Ma’s platters to bring you home on. 
But I can’ t make you out, Ward. I hardly know now 
why you didn’t fix Tim’s room so that it would have 
been a living monument of your ability in that line. 
That’s what I’d have done.” 

As Ward made no reply, Jack added : “Well, never 
mind, old fellow ! Perhaps it’s just as well. Tim won’t 
bother you again, that is, I mean you won’t have your 
room stacked again. You can rest easy about that.” 

“Thank you, Jack. You’ve been a good friend to 
me, and I need friends too.” 

“ Don’t mention it,” replied Jack impulsively, as he 
reached forth his hand and shook Ward’s warmly. 
“ Good-night.” 

“Good-night, Jack.” 

When Ward returned to his room, Henry was there 
and working over his lessons. At first he was tempted 
to tell his room-mate all about his experience, but fear- 
ing that Henry like Jack might misunderstand him he 
remained silent, and soon took his seat at his own table 
and began to work on his lessons. 

It was some time, however, before he could bring 


132 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


his mind to bear upon his task. The scene in Tim 
Pickard’s room kept rising before him. His anger and 
the part Jack had taken were still vivid. What a good 
fellow Jack was, Ward thought, and he appreciated his 
aid the more when he realized what it might mean for 
the impulsive lad to bring upon himself the anger of 
the ‘ ‘ Tangs. ’ ’ And yet how fearless he had been, 
and in what a manly way he had taken his stand. 
Even then Ward could almost hear his words as he 
told Tim that the trouble in West Hall must cease. 
Would Tim heed? Somehow Ward felt that he would, 
at least in so far as the stacking of his room was con- 
cerned ; but in other ways doubtless he would be made 
aware that Tim had not forgotten him. And Tim was 
one who never forgot. 

At last he succeeded in banishing from his mind for 
the time, the recollection of the scene in Mrs. Perrins’ 
house, and gave himself wholly to his work. 

On the following night Ward started to go to Mr. 
Crane’s room. Somehow he dreaded the interview, 
and yet go he must. Mr. Crane he knew would expect 
him to come, and that scene in Ripley’s room must be 
explained to his satisfaction. 

Ward had thought over the matter many times, but 
as yet had arrived at no satisfactory course for him to 
follow. One thing was certain, and that was that he 
could not tell Mr. Crane about Tim Pickard. That 
was against the school’s code of honor, and Ward’s own 
feelings forbade it as well. 

He was still undecided what to do when he rapped 


MR. CRANE’S WORDS 


133 

on Mr. Crane’s door and was at once admitted by the 
teacher himself. 

Apparently Mr. Crane had not changed, nor did he 
seem in any way suspicious of the boy before him. 
And yet that very quietness was most impressive to 
Ward, and had ever been the one element in the 
teacher’ s character and bearing which had most influ- 
enced him. 

After a few general words Ward felt that that he 
could bear it no longer, and breaking in somewhat ab- 
ruptly, he said : 

“ Mr. Crane I want to put a case before you.” 

“Yes? ” said Mr. Crane, lifting his eyes inquiringly, 
but not otherwise changing his manner. 

“I want to know just what you would do. You 
seem to understand boys so well. ’ ’ 

“I don’t just know what I should do, if I didn’t 
understand a little more clearly than I do now r what 
was expected of me,” answered Mr. Crane, smiling 
slightly as he spoke. 

“Well, it’s just this way. Suppose a fellow — I mean 
a boy — had come up to the Weston school, and was 
here a year. Suppose too, that he hadn’t done very 
well. He’d neglected his work and was a great disap- 
pointment to his father and mother, and to his teachers, 
to say nothing of himself. Then suppose he’d fallen in 
with a set of the fellows — I mean boys — who were up 
to all sorts of mischief and he’d gone in with them, 
though all the time he didn’ t feel right about it. Then 
suppose he’d failed in his examinations at the end of 


34 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


the year, but that he tried to make them up during 
the summer. We’ll say he came back to school and 
was able to go on with his class. When he came back 
he tried to break off with his old associates, but he 
didn’ t find it a very easy thing to do. They wouldn’ t 
believe in him, and when at last they found he really 
was trying to do differently, then they tried to make his 
life a burden to him. ’ ’ 

Ward stopped a moment as if he expected some kind 
of a reply, but as Mr. Crane was silent he resumed his 
story. 

“ Well, if it didn’t sound too much like telling tales, 
we’ll suppose these fellows — I mean students — tried to 
do all they could to make life a burden for the boy. 
They put him off from the nine, they prejudiced the 
minds of the new boys against him, and some of the old 
ones too. But that wasn’t all. They played all kinds 
of tricks on him, and worst of all they began to stack 
his room. I don’t know that you understand what that 
means?” added Ward quickly. 

“I think I understand,” said Mr. Crane quietly. 

“ Well, this boy — I mean fellow — no, I don’t, I mean 
boy — would find his room all upset every day. His 
carpet would be torn up, he’d find that water had been 
poured on his bed, and sometimes the oil from his lamp 
would be added too. The fellow — boy I mean — really 
wanted to study, but he had to take lots of his time 
from his lessons to set his room to rights. Finally he 
went at it and found out who was doing the mischief. 
He discovered that some one had a key to his room, 


MR. CRANES WORDS 


135 


but he found out too, that the fellow — I mean boy — 
who had the key wasn’t the one who was stacking his 
room. He kept out of it himself, but set other fellows 
— I mean boys — up to it. And the worst of it all was 
that they were picking on Little P — I mean on a 
little fellow who rather looked up to this boy for help. 

“Well, finally the boy fixed a trap and caught the 
one who Was trying to get into his room that day. He 
went over to his room and started to make him give up 
the key — but — but — he was interrupted, and somehow 
he didn’t do it. Then he went down to the fellow’s 
room — the one at the bottom of it all — and was going 
to stack his room well, so as to let him know how it 
felt. But when he got there he somehow couldn’t 
bring himself to do it, and while he was hesitating, the 
fellow in whose room he was came back and there was 
a great row. 

“No, there was no fight,” he hastily added, as he 
saw the question in the teacher’s eyes; “but the fellow 
didn’ t know but the boy was trying to stack his room. 
Now, there’s the story, Mr. Crane. I wish you’d tell 
me what you would do if you were that boy.” 

For a few moments Mr. Crane was silent, but at last 
he said : “Hill, I’ll try to be entirely frank with you. 
In the first place, I think I should honor the boy who 
had gained the victory over himself in that fellow’s 
room. He couldn’t afford to do the very same thing 
he despised in the other fellow. ’ ’ 

Ward’s face flushed with pleasure, for he felt that 
praise from Mr. Crane was praise indeed. 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


136 

“I’m not done yet,” resumed Mr. Crane quietly. 
‘ ‘ Then, if I were that boy, I think I should begin to 
question myself and see if there was any just cause for 
the school being down upon me. It may have been 
that that boy was somewhat conceited, and a little 
selfish. He was all the time perhaps thinking how the 
school ought to appreciate everything he did, and he 
did not have quite the necessary courage to face calmly 
the results of his own misdeeds. ’ ’ 

“But, Mr. Crane,” protested Ward, “the fellow 
knew he’d done wrong. He wasn’t trying to crawl.” 

“Perhaps so, but it is also possible that he thought 
he ought to be praised unduly for simply turning about 
and doing his duty. In the main, Hill, boys are just ; 
and while doubtless injustice creeps in at times, it is 
still true that if a fellow has trouble, he ought not only 
to think of that, but of what he may be doing to bring 
it upon himself.” 

1 ‘ Then you think the boy ought to keep still and let 
his room be stacked every day, do you ? ’ ’ 

“Not at all; I want him to cure that in the right 
way, but I want him also to think not only of the 
stacking, but of the reason for its being stacked. ’ ’ 

“It was stacked because he broke with the fellows 
he’d been going with,” said Ward bitterly. 

“ In part, yes ; but in part, no. Think it over, Hill, 
and come and see me again in a week. ’ ’ 

“Good-night, Mr. Crane,” said Ward somewhat ab- 
ruptly, as he left the room. 

He felt hurt and humiliated. Somehow he had 


MR. CRANE S WORDS 


137 


thought Mr. Crane would speak very differently. Was 
that to be the reward for trying to do better? It 
seemed to him that he had been abused and misunder- 
stood, and in no very amiable frame of mind Ward 
walked back to West Hall. 


CHAPTER XIII 


A FAITHFUL FRIEND 



OR two days Ward Hill continued in no enviable 


X frame of mind. He felt hurt and humiliated by 
the words of Mr. Crane, and also felt that he had 
been hard and somewhat unjust in his judgment. 

It was true that he had not referred to the disturb- 
ance in Ripley’s room, but to Ward that seemed a 
trifling matter now. The struggle through which he 
was passing was uppermost in his thoughts, and before 
that, all else seemed insignificant and small. 

And to Ward Hill it was a struggle of no small char- 
acter. The stand which near the close of th£ pre- 
ceding year he had taken for Henry had brought upon 
him the enmity of his former associates, and they had 
succeeded not only in annoying him themselves, but 
also in creating a prejudice against him in the school. 

Henry, it was true, remained his true friend, but he 
was a boy who was never demonstrative, and Ward 
somehow felt the need of continued praise. In this 
particular he did not differ from other sensitive and 
bright lads ; but in his own home and in the little village 
of Rockford, he had been so looked up to by all his as- 
sociates that he had come to regard such feelings toward 
him as but his just and natural right. 


138 


A FAITHFUL FRIEND 


139 


Jack Hobart’s good will he highly prized and also 
prized more than he himself was aware all the good- 
natured references to the possibilities of his becoming 
the valedictorian of the class ; but Ward Hill, like many 
another when he finds himself beset with perplexities 
and difficulties, was more prone to dwell upon his lacks 
than upon his possessions, and consequently he was 
thinking much more of the words of implied blame 
which Mr. Crane had spoken, than he was of the en- 
couragement and appreciation he had received. 

And it was just because Mr. Crane thoroughly under- 
stood Ward that he had spoken as he did at the time 
of Ward’s indirect statement. He had understood 
clearly that in the case which Ward had stated, he was 
speaking of himself. The disguise was very thin, and 
the teacher had listened attentively and with a full sense 
of what it all meant to the eager, impulsive boy. 

But he had also seen, what Ward himself had failed 
to see, that as yet he had not faced his situation with 
the true spirit. It was his vanity which was suffering 
more than his sense of justice and right. Eager for 
the praise of the boys and his teachers, he had not as 
yet come to perceive that there was something deeper, 
stronger, better. It was with no lack of appreciation 
of the efforts Ward certainly was making to do better 
work in his classes and to cut himself loose from the 
more disorderly elements of the Weston school, that 
Mr. Crane had spoken, but because he clearly per- 
ceived that as yet the troubled boy was governed only 
by his feelings, and that deep down below all his de- 


140 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


sires to improve there lay a motive which must be 
purified before anything like a radical or permanent 
change in his life could be produced. 

He had not failed to notice the pain his words pro- 
duced, but as we are informed that “faithful are the 
wounds of a friend,” he had resolved for the sake of 
the boy, whom he sincerely loved and whose brightness 
he was in no wise backward in acknowledging, that 
what he needed most was not praise and sympathy, but 
frankness and a true picture of himself. 

Not the least of Ward’s troubles arose from the fact 
that in his own heart there was a perception of the 
fact that the basis of all his regard for Mr. Crane was 
his confidence in the teacher’s candor and sincerity. 
Ward felt that come what might Mr. Crane never said 
pleasing things just for the pleasure of saying them, or 
for the pleasure his praise might impart. In all this he 
was in marked contrast to Mr. Blake whose words of 
praise were so plentiful as to be cheap, and were bestowed 
so indiscriminately that they were slightly valued. Mr. 
Crane, on the contrary, was ever ready to speak a word 
of encouragement to any boy whom he perceived to be 
doing his best, but he never praised at the expense of 
truth. And perhaps it was because of the dim con- 
sciousness that there was too much truth in what he 
had heard, that Ward’s bitterness was somewhat in- 
creased. 

He could not conceal from himself the fact that in 
the preceding year, when he had been received into the 
“Tangs” and made much of by a class of boys whose 


A FAITHFUL FRIEND 


141 

ideals, home training, and lives had been very different 
from his own, that he had been somewhat elated by the 
attentions he had received and that his manner and 
bearing toward the other boys in the school had grad- 
ually undergone a marked change. 

He had become somewhat overbearing and conde- 
scending in his dealings with them. He had assumed 
airs that did not become him and rejected many of the 
overtures of friendship that had been offered him. 
And as a consequence he had not gained them, and 
now he had lost the others. Did Mr. Crane know 
anything of that ? Ward almost felt that he must, but 
the knowledge did not tend to increase his peace of 
mind at the time. In fact, Ward Hill wanted what he 
did not need, and needed what he did not want. 

For two days, as we have said, the struggle went on 
in Ward’s soul. At times he would be bitter and 
hard, feeling that it made no difference what he at- 
tempted to do, the hand of nearly every one was cer- 
tain to be against him. Then again, his better self 
would assert itself and he would be able to see things 
in their true light. 

To Henry he did not speak of his troubles. He 
worked faithfully and hard over his lessons, and knew 
that he was doing well in his classes ; but somehow the 
knowledge did not bring him the satisfaction he had 
expected. He could not forget or ignore Mr. Crane’s 
words, and the recollection of them was ever a disturb- 
ing element in his mind. 

When the two days had passed, he sought out Jack, 


142 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


having resolved to seek his opinion, half hoping that 
his friend, who ever had good words for all, would have 
something to say to him which would be a comfort to 
his troubled soul. 

It was in his room that he found his friend and after 
stating, as clearly and fully as he could recall, the con- 
versation with Mr. Crane, he said abruptly: “Now, Jack, 
I want you to tell me just what you think. Am I a 
prig, like Big Smith? Do you think Mr. Crane was 
right ? Am I to blame for what’ s coming to me ? ’ ’ 

“Ward, I don’t know,” said Jack soberly after a 
brief silence. 

Ward felt hurt and somewhat humiliated by his 
friend’s reply. He was so anxious to be absolved from 
all blame that he had eagerly looked forward to Jack as 
a consoler. And now Jack’s manner, far more than 
his words, seemed to imply that he too thought some- 
thing was wrong with himself. 

“It seems to me,” said Ward, unable entirely to 
conceal his disappointment, “ that a fellow who stands 
up for Henry as I did when the ‘Tangs’ got after him, 
isn’t altogether bad. And why is Tim Pickard so down 
on me? If I’d gone into his scrapes, or if even now 
I’d go in again, he’d be all right, and you know it. 
I’ d have my place on the nine and the fellows in the 
school wouldn’t all be down on me as they now are.” 

“I don’t know what to say to you,” said Jack 
slowly. “You know how I feel, old fellow, and there 
isn’ t a chap in the school who would be so glad to have 
you take the place I know belongs to you as I would. 


A FAITHFUL FRIEND 


143 


I know Tim’s to blame, but then you know how it was 
with Big Pond. He didn’t go in with Tim and the 
‘Tangs,’ and yet there hasn’t been a fellow in school 
for years whom every one liked as they did Pond. Now 
I know him and I know you, and for the life of me I 
can’t see just where the fault lies.” 

‘ ‘ Only you know they liked Pond and don’ t like 
me.” 

“It isn’t as strong as that. It isn’t that the fellows 
dislike you, Ward. That isn’t it.” 

“It’s that they don’t like me,” said Ward bitterly, 
determined to say the words which he perceived that 
Jack would not. 

“ I think it’ll come out all right, Ward, if you’ll have 
patience and wait. It isn’t very pleasant, I know,” 
he hastily added as he saw an expression of pain and 
mortification sweep over Ward’s face, “but it’ll all come 
right, I’m sure.” 

“And meanwhile I’m to sit still and bear it all like 
a martyr on a pole. ’ ’ 

“No, not that — not that — but ” 

“But what?” 

“ But I wish you’d take a little more pains to make 
the fellows like you. ’ ’ 

“ Don’t you remember, though, what the doctor said 
about the fellows that tried to do the popular act, how 
they never succeeded and the school was always down 
on them? ” 

“Yes, I remember, and it’s true too, but that doesn’t 
mean that a fellow’s not to take a little trouble to be 


144 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


agreeable — I mean to go out of his way. Forgive me, 
Ward. It hurts me worse than it does you, but you 
asked me the honest question and I’m trying hard, 
honestly I am, to see a way out of it. Now there’s 
Big Smith. He’s never in a scrape. He doesn’t know 
what the word mischief means, but then he isn’t over 
popular, you know.” 

‘‘Yes, I know; but I hope I’m not like Big Smith. 
I suppose I’ll have to take it out in being respected, 
even if I’m not liked.” 

‘‘That’s where you’re wrong, Ward. I tell you a 
fellow’s got to be respected or he’s not liked. He’s 
got to have something the other fellows don’t have or 
they don’t look up to him and don’t care much for 
him, either. No, sir ! I don’t believe a fellow can be 
respected and not be liked. Speaking of that, and the 
doctor’s words, don’t you remember what he said 
about ‘speaking the truth in love’? that it wasn’t 
enough for a fellow to be true, and speak the truth too, 
for that matter, but that the way in which he did it 
counted for as much or more than what he said ? I 
usually take a nap when the doctor gets to preaching, 
but I was thinking that morning and so kept awake.” 

“Thinking of me, maybe?” said Ward, looking 
keenly at Jack as he spoke, 

“Why, yes, to tell the truth I was thinking of you, 
Ward ; but I fancy I’d been in a good deal better busi- 
ness to have been thinking of myself. ’ ’ 

“Jack, what would you advise me to do? ” 

“I told you, Ward, I don’t know what to tell you. 


A FAITHFUL FRIEND 145 

Still, if you want me to, I’ll tell you one or two things 
I’ve thought of.” 

4 ‘ Go ahead, ’ ’ said Ward, striving to appear calm, 
though there was a sinking of the heart as he spoke. 

“Well, to begin with, old fellow, there isn’t a boy 
in the class who can learn his lessons with as little work 
as you can. Why, you can see right through a thing 
that takes my old head an hour, to find out. But, 
Ward,” he added hesitatingly, “I’ve sometimes thought 
you were a little quick to poke fun at the fellows who 
are not so quick-witted as you are. And then you aren’t 
over ready to give a fellow a lift when he’s in trouble. 
Now, for example, there’s Big Smith. I saw him come 
up to you before class yesterday and say, ‘ Ward, how 
do you translate this passage ? ’ And maybe you re- 
member what you said to him. ’ ’ 

“No, I don’t,” replied Ward. “ He’s such a shirk 
I’ve no patience with him. What did I say, Jack? ” 

“Why you turned him off with a curt, ‘How do I 
translate that place? Why, I translate it right,’ and 
then you turned on your heel and walked off.” 

“But I don’t want to drag Big Smith through by 
letting him hang on to my coat tails. I work to get 
what I have, and why shouldn’t the other fellows work 
too, I’d like to know? Every tub ought to stand on 
its own bottom.” 

“That’s all true enough, but it wouldn’t cost you 
anything to give another fellow a lift ; you can do it too, 
I know, for you’ve lifted me right out of the mire every 
time I asked you.” 


146 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Yes, but I like you, Jack.” 

“But I thought it was of the other fellows and the 
school you were talking just now.” 

“ So I was, Jack,” replied Ward slowly. Perhaps he 
was beginning to see what his friend had in mind. 
“But go on, give me another. Pm good for it.” 

“Well,” said Jack hesitatingly, “I’ve thought about 
the nine, Ward. Henry and I were perfectly willing 
to keep off till they’d take you on, but you wouldn’t 
have that.” 

“No, sir ! I’d never go on the nine if I had to get 
on in that way.” 

“ That’s all right and I don’t know that I blame you, 
though I think by a little squeezing Tim would have 
come around all right. But I did think you might 
have gone on the scrub. ’ ’ 

“Go on the scrub !” said Ward quickly. “What? 
Go on the scrub when I’d been put off from the nine? 
Not much! Not as long as the court knows itself.” 
And Ward rose from his seat and in his anger began 
to pace back and forth in the room. 

‘ 1 You don’ t see what I’ m driving at. N ow it looks to 
me like this. If you’d taken the thing good-naturedly 
and made out that you weren’t hit so hard, I think 
the most of the fellows in the school would have taken 
your part in no time. As it is, you just keep away 
from them, and if Tim tells them that you’ve gone back 
on everything, why they don’t know but its true, you 
see. Now if you’d swallowed your pride and gone in 
with the fellows, whether you were on the nine or not, 



♦ 




Page 146. 


“You don’t see what I’m driving at.” 



H 








■ i 


* 






























A FAITHFUL FRIEND 


47 


why it wouldn’t have been any time before every one of 
them would be willing to swear that you were one of 
the best fellows in the school, as well as one of the best 
players, and Tim would be forced to give you back 
your place. Ripley has it now, but he doesn’t size up 
to your knees, when it comes to playing ball. ’ ’ 

“Yes, but think what Tim Pickard would say if he 
should see me on the scrub nine. He’d think he’d 
got me just where he wanted me, and that I was all cut 
up about being put off the nine, and was trying to 
force my way back again. ’ ’ 

“ Tim might be a little disagreeable at first ; but you 
know if you braced up and either laughed at him or 
paid no attention to what he said, how soon he’d cool 
off. Now look here, Ward, how many times has your 
room been stacked since we had our little interview 
with Timothy down at Ma Perrins’ ? ” 

“ Not once.” 

“ Exactly. And if you meet Tim and the boys in the 
same way down on the ball ground you’d see how soon 
he’d crawl there. Oh, I know Tim Pickard all the way 
up and all the way down, from the top of his head to 
the sole of his foot.” 

“But, I don’t want to get on the nine in any such 
way,” protested Ward. 

“Never mind the nine, just come down and go in 
with the fellows, that’s all .I’m telling you. You can’t 
run off up to the glen or away off to the Hopper, and 
think all the school is going to come trailing after you. 
If you’re going to catch fish, you’ve got to go where 


48 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


the fish are, haven’t you? And if you think the fel- 
lows are all down on you, you can’t fix things straight 
by going off and talking with the whispering breezes and 
echoing hills, and all that sort of stuff.” 

Ward soon departed and went to his own room. 
His heart was smarting from the effect of Jack’s words, 
but somehow he could not feel angry with him. Who 
could ? The light-hearted, generous lad made friends 
on every side, for no one could long withstand his sunny 
ways. 

That night Ward sat for a long time at his study 
table, with his head resting upon his hands and his 
books unopened before him. He was thinking of Mr. 
Crane’s words and what Jack had said. 

At last he arrived at a quick decision, and with the 
decision once made he opened his books and resolutely 
began the preparation of his lessons for the following 
day. 


CHAPTER XIV 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF 



‘OR a long time after he had retired that night 


X Ward rolled and tossed upon his bed, and it 
seemed to the troubled boy as if sleep would never 
come. The words of Jack kept sounding in his ears, 
and do what he would he could not forget them. 

His heart was heavy too, with the consciousness that 
the words were true and that he knew he was in a 
measure at fault. Perhaps that after all was the source 
of his deepest suffering, for Ward Hill was one of the 
few boys who could not entirely deceive himself. 

Again and again he tried to persuade himself that his 
present suffering all came because he had broken with 
his former associates in the school. That a measure of 
truth lay in that fact he could readily persuade himself 
to believe, but not all of it could be traced to that 
source. Jack’s references to his unwillingness to aid the 
other boys and his tendency to have but slight sym- 
pathy for those who did not learn as easily as he, had 
touched him in a tender spot and his own conscience 
accused him. 

Then too, he knew that he had withdrawn from the 
fellowship of many in the school, and had been accus- 
tomed to pride himself somewhat upon that very fact. 


150 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

He was not dependent upon any one. If the fellows 
did not care for him, why, he did not intend to hang 
his harp on the willows and sit down and mourn over 
his slights. He would show every one in the school 
that he could live without his company if needs be. 
With such statements he had endeavored to bolster up 
his courage and by an air of bravado, if not of true 
independence, he would show his own superiority. No 
one should ever hear him ‘ ‘whine." 

Yet, despite his efforts, his heart had been heavy all 
the time. He yearned for the love and good will of his 
companions. No one in the school more desired to be 
popular than he. And few too would suffer from the 
lack of popularity as he did. 

And his heart had been heavy when he at last had 
closed his books when the bell was rung that night and 
he had put out his light and crept into his bed. He 
was tormented by a dull, heavy feeling of misery. He 
felt lonely and forlorn. Both Mr. Crane and Jack had 
virtually admitted that he was not very well liked by 
the school, and both also evidently thought he was not 
entirely blameless in the matter. 

As the truth gradually came to be seen by him, he 
was sincere enough to acknowledge it to be true and 
had sufficient strength to rouse himself to face its diffi- 
culties. He would follow Jack’s suggestions. 

On the following morning he said to Jack as they 
left the chapel together: “I’m going to follow your 
advice, and am coming down to play on the scrub 
against the nine this afternoon. The only thing I’m 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF 151 

afraid of is that Tim Pickard will think I’m crawling. 
You know I’m not trying to get back my place on the 
team. ’ ’ 

“ That’s all right, Ward,” replied Jack enthusiasti- 
cally. “Never you mind Tim, you just go ahead. 
It’ll be all right and I’ll see that you have a place 
on the scrub.” 

As a consequence of Jack’s efforts, when in the 
afternoon Ward went down to the ball ground, Ford, 
who was acting as the captain of the scrub nine, which 
was formed to give the regular nine practice every day, 
said to him, “Ward, will you take a hand with us this 
afternoon ? ” 

“Yes,” replied Ward quietly. 

“All right; play ‘short’ then, will you?” 

As Ward threw aside his coat and walked out upon 
the field to take the position assigned him, he was con- 
scious that many of the boys who had assembled to 
watch the nine at its practice were talking of him. 
His face burned, but he tried hard not to appear aware 
of the curiosity which his appearance on the field had 
aroused. The sneer on Tim Pickard’s face was the 
hardest for him to bear ; and when he overheard the 
words which Tim uttered, evidently intended forWard’s 
special benefit, about “sneaks” and “trying to curry 
favor and crawl back on the team,” he was sorely 
tempted to leave the field instantly. 

But catching a meaning look just then from Jack, he 
resolutely ignored all that he had heard and seen, and 
well aware that Tim would be highly delighted even 


152 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


then to have him abandon the game, he tried hard to 
give his entire attention to the work before him. 

It was the first game in which Ward had played since 
he had come back to Weston and he felt sadly his lack 
of practice. But endeavoring to make up by his efforts 
what he lacked in practice, he succeeded beyond his 
hopes in acquitting himself creditably. He handled the 
ball quickly and threw with all his old-time swiftness. 

Indeed, he thought more than once of that long 
throw of his in the game with the Burrs in the preced- 
ing year, which had saved the game and won for him 
the wild applause of his fellows. The recollection served 
to intensify the difficulties of his present position. How 
sadly had it all been changed since the preceding year ! 
He was, however, too busy in the game to dwell long 
upon the misery which the thought produced. 

When it came to be his turn to bat and he stood 
facing Tim, who was the pitcher of the Weston nine, he 
could easily perceive the expression of hatred upon his 
face. Tim exerted himself to the utmost and sent in 
the ball with all the speed and curves he could summon. 
Perhaps his manifest desire to place Ward at a disadvan- 
tage served to rouse the latter all the more. At any 
rate he stood calmly facing Tim, apparently unmoved 
by all his efforts to annoy him. 

It became evident to others as well as to Ward that 
Tim in his anger was trying to hit him with the ball. 
He sent in two or three at his swiftest speed and Ward 
had all he could do to dodge them successfully. 

“ Oh, hold on, Tim ! ” called Jack in a low voice from 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF 


153 


his position at short stop. “What are you trying to 
do? You want to remember that we’re not alone 
here.” 

Somehow Jack always seemed to have a strange in- 
fluence over the captain of the nine, an influence which 
no other exerted, or even tried to use. And the effect 
of the words became at once apparent as Tim’s speed 
slackened and the next ball came in directly over the 
plate. 

Just then Ward obtained a glimpse of Mr. Crane, who 
had come upon the grounds and taken his position in 
the front line of the spectators, where he stood watching 
the game. Perhaps the sight of the teacher, or Jack’s 
words, or the change which came over Tim, served to 
arouse Ward still more. He never knew just what the 
cause was ; but as he saw the ball coming swiftly toward 
him, he caught it squarely on the end of his bat and 
sent it far out over the heads of the waiting fielders. 

As Ward swiftly cleared the bases, sending in two 
men before him, he was dimly conscious that a faint 
cheer had arisen from the spectators. He gave no heed 
to that, however, nor yet to the words with which Jack 
hailed him as he ran swiftly past him. Somehow the 
heavy hit which he had made served in a measure to 
relieve his feelings, and as he halted upon the third 
base he wiped his dripping face with his handkerchief 
and for the first time turned and looked about him. 

Jack’s face was beaming and Ward could easily see 
he had risen in the estimation of the spectators. The 
sight produced a thrill of pleasure in his heart, but he 


54 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


was soon recalled to the necessities of the game and 
gave himself fully to that. When at last he succeeded 
in stealing home, the applause again broke out, but 
Ward held himself aloof from the boys, well satisfied 
with what he had done. 

Twice more during the game Ward succeeded in 
hitting squarely the swiftly thrown balls of the pitcher, 
and when at last the game was ended, the scrub nine for 
the first time that season had succeeded in making a cred- 
itable showing against the school nine, and Ward knew 
the success in large measure had been due to his efforts. 

‘ ‘Tell you what, Tim,” said Jack, as the members 
of the nine picked up their bats and started for their 
rooms, ‘ ‘ we’ 11 have to put up the scrub against the Burrs, 
I’m thinking. If we don’t look out they’ll be playing 
all around us. ’ ’ 

Tim made no reply, but a savage scowl crept over 
his face. He prided himself upon his prowess as a 
pitcher, and indeed it was freely acknowledged that 
there was no one in the school in any way to be com- 
pared with him. Indeed, it was this fact that chiefly 
enabled Tim to retain his position as the captain of the 
nine, for the boys well knew that without him they 
would be so sadly crippled as to be unable to make a 
good showing against any team. 

The fact that Ward Hill, whom he disliked so in- 
tensely, had succeeded in successfully batting him that 
day was gall to the angry boy. He made no reply to 
Jack’s words, and sullenly departed from the field. 

Ward did not wait for any of his friends to accom- 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF 


155 


pany him as he too started from the ball ground. 
Jack’s beaming face pleased him greatly, and the words 
that he overheard some of the boys say about it’s being 
“a shame that Hill was not on the nine,” seemed also 
to comfort him ; but without waiting to speak to any 
one he drew on his coat and started to go. 

As he came to the border of the grounds he was sur- 
prised as Mr. Crane joined him and said: “You’ve 
done well to-day, Hill, and I congratulate you. ’ ’ 

“Thank you,” said Ward simply, though his face 
flushed with pleasure at the words. 

“You haven’t been over to see me yet,” continued 
Mr. Crane. ‘ ‘ Can’ t you come up to my room for a 
few minutes now ? ’ ’ 

“I’m hardly fit for that,” said Ward, glancing rue- 
fully at his soiled hands. He knew also that his hair 
was in disorder and that his face bore many tokens of 
his recent exertions. 

‘ ‘ I understand all that, ’ ’ said Mr. Crane quietly. 
“If you can spare a few minutes now I should be 
very glad to have you come. You bear only the hon- 
orable signs of battle, and I shall forget them. I want 
only a few minutes with you. 

“I’ll come,” said Ward simply, as he turned and 
walked with the teacher, and was soon seated in his 
room. 

“ Now, Hill,” said Mr. Crane as soon as he too had 
taken his seat, “I don’t want you to think that I’m 
asking more than I ought, and if you feel that I am you 
are at liberty not to answer me. But I should be glad 


56 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


to have you tell me why you went down to the ball 
ground this afternoon and played on the scrub nine. 
You haven’t done that before, have you?” 

“No,” said Ward quietly. 

He was silent a moment, and then, as he looked up, 
he felt rather than saw that Mr. Crane was regarding 
him intently. His interest was so apparent that almost 
before he realized what he was doing Ward had related 
all his recent troubles to him. He did not mention 
any names, but he told him of his own feelings when 
he had listened to his words of the previous interview ; 
also of what “a friend ” — for so he referred to Jack — 
had said to him in the same line. He held nothing 
back. His own bitterness, his feeling that he had been 
misunderstood, his discouragement and all came out. 

“Hill,” said Mr. Crane when Ward at last ended, 
“I’m greatly pleased with you. You haven’t done 
anything since you came to Weston that has given me 
such genuine pleasure as that which you have done 
to-day. ’ ’ 

“Why, Mr. Crane,” said Ward quickly, his face 
flushing as he spoke and a very suspicious moisture ap- 
pearing in his eyes, “ I didn’t know you cared so much 
about the game. I thought you would be more pleased 
over my work in the classes.” 

“Iam pleased with both, Hill. I am delighted at 
the improvement in your class work, and I am no less 
pleased over what I have seen to-day.” 

As Ward appeared somewhat mystified and looked 
questioningly at him, Mr. Crane continued, “The 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF 


157 


class work is important. You know I would be the last 
to belittle that. But there are many other things to be 
learned in a school like this. I have been here many 
years now, and I have had an Opportunity to judge of 
the relative success of the boys as they have gone up to 
college and out into life, and I must say that many of 
my old standards of judgment have been revised.” 

‘ ‘ And you don’ t think that standing high in the class 
is first then ? ” said Ward eagerly. 

“Yes, with you I do, Hill; but first, not all. I 
want to see every boy do his best, his particular rank in 
class then becomes a secondary matter. There are 
some boys who are older when they enter, or much 
more mature when they are of the same age as their 
fellows, and of course they do the work more easily and 
gain a higher standing without much effort. But some 
students show elements of growth and promise, and 
although they may not stand so high as some of the 
others, I can see by the very impetus they receive from 
working faithfully that they are bound to outstrip the 
others in the race of life. Then too, school work only 
tests a man on one side of his mental make-up. His 
memory may be strong and he may also be able to per- 
ceive and receive, but his ability to create or to carry 
out plans is not tested in the least, or to a very slight 
degree. So when he gets out into the world and finds 
that the world is much more prone to ask of him what 
he can furnish or add to the stock it already has, or 
what he can do in carrying out his plans, than it is to 
ask him about his ability to soak in as a sponge does, he 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


158 

doesn’t know just what to make of it. Creative ability 
and executive ability are but slightly tested in school 
life, and these are the qualities of success far more than 
mere receptive power. I don’ t know that I make my- 
self clear, using these long words,” added Mr. Crane 
smilingly. 

“I think I understand you,” said Ward slowly; 
“but I’d never thought of it in that way before. I 
always thought if a fellow did well in school he’d be 
likely to outside. ’ ’ 

“And so he will,” said Mr. Crane quickly. “You 
see I didn’t make myself clear after all. I think suc- 
cess in the main is in him, not in his surroundings, and if 
he has ability and exerts it in school it will tell there as 
well as in any other place. If a boy has ability and 
applies himself he will succeed in school if success is in 
him. But on the other hand, because a boy has the 
special kind of ability to succeed in school work it does 
not always follow that the same qualities will make his 
life-work a success. And that is the very reason why 
I am always glad to see a boy tested and meet the test 
on every side of his life, even while he is in school.” 

“ And you think I have been tested? ” 

“Yes; and I think you are meeting the tests. 
School life and school work are two different things. I 
want not less of one but more of the other. The dis- 
cipline of hard study is what you need, Hill ; and you 
need also the discipline which only the boys can give 
you. No teacher can give it, however much he may 
try. It’s life, not books. Now no discipline for the 


WARD HUMBLES HIMSELF I 59 

present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous. Neverthe- 
less, afterward ” 

“Yes, yes, I see,” said Ward quickly. “And you 
think I am learning? Tell me honestly just what you 
think, Mr. Crane.” 

‘ ‘ I think you are learning and are doing well in the 
school life as well as in the school work,” replied Mr. 
Crane cordially, as he rose from his chair, a signal 
which Ward at once understood. 


CHAPTER XV 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 

“ \ TOW, Hill,” said Mr. Crane, as Ward stopped 

INI for a moment in the doorway, “I trust I 
have not said too much to you.” 

The teacher’s kindly tones and grave manner im- 
pressed Ward even more than what he had been saying, 
and with a face that beamed in spite of the marks 
which the dust of the ball-ground had left, the boy, 
far more light-hearted than he had been for many 
weeks now, said : “ You have done me lots of good, 
Mr. Crane.” 

“ Let us hope that it will prove to be so. I rejoice 
with you that the muskets of Lexington have been 
heard, now let us see to it that the guns of Yorktown 
shall also be heard. Or to put it in another way, the 
victory of a Bull Run does not always mean that the 
same parties are in similar conditions at Appomattox. 
The declaration of independence did not of itself make 
the colonies free. They had to prove their right and 
ability to be free ; but still the declaration had to come 
first. You have fought at Lexington, and have de- 
clared your independence, and I think too you have 
had your Trenton and Princeton. Now if Valley 
Forge and Benedict Arnold come along why you will 
160 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 


161 


not forget what followed them. But I don’t mean to 
stand here and croak of possible ills. I am confident 
now, Hill, that you are beginning to be master of your- 
self, and that is what the discipline and training of a 
school course and school life are for. Come and see 
me again soon, Hill. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye, Mr. Crane,” said Ward; and then he 
started directly across the campus toward his room to 
prepare for supper. 

Somehow he was feeling strangely elated. He could 
not see that there had been any radical change in him- 
self or in his relations with his fellows, but the trial of 
the afternoon on the ball-ground had been passed, and 
he had played a game which certainly must have proven 
to all that whether he was on the nine or not, there 
was no one in the school who could do better. 

And he could not fail to see too the change which 
already had become manifest in the feelings of many 
of the boys toward him. The surprise with which they 
had first observed him when he went out on the field, 
the sneers of Tim Pickard, reflected in a measure by 
some of his boon companions, the remarks which his 
appearance had called forth, had all soon changed, that 
is, all save Tim’s malice, which had given place to an 
expression of intense and bitter hatred. 

Still Ward thought he could endure that. His vigor- 
ous body was still tingling from the effects of his exer- 
cise, and the words of Mr. Crane were still sounding in 
his ears. Added to all that was the evident pleasure 
of the spectators which his ability as a player had 
L 


1 62 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


aroused, and the cordial encouragement of the one 
teacher in the school whom he most respected and 
loved. Ward was beginning to feel as if life were not 
such a heavy burden after all. 

“Well, Ward, that was a great game you put up this 
afternoon,” said Henry, as his room-mate entered the 
room. “ The way in which you batted Tim almost 
broke him up.” 

“Did it?” said Ward lightly, as he at once began 
to wash. 

“ It did that, and it tickled the rest of us, or rather 
some of us, mightily too. Tim will soon have to give 
you back your place on the nine.” 

“No, he’ll not do that,” replied Ward quickly. 
“Tim’s got enough of the nine under his thumb to 
have his say, and I know he’d rather leave than have 
me on the team.” 

“But surely, Ward, after to-day’s work you’ll not 
object to Jack’s proposal? ” 

“Jack’s proposal? I don’t know just what you 
mean. ’ ’ 

“Why, that he and I should tell Tim that he must 
take you back or we’d leave the nine.” 

“ No. I never should agree to that,” replied Ward 
quietly. “I’d never want to get on the nine in that 
way. I’d stay off forever before I’d do that. Not 
that I don’t thank you,” he hastily added, as he 
saw an expression of genuine disappointment creeping 
over his room-mate’s face. “It’s mighty good of you 
and Jack, and I’ll never forget it, either. But, you see, 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 


163 

even if I were willing to go on in that way, Tim still has 
the most of the nine, and I think the most of the 
school too, on his side, and I think it would break up 
the team. And with the game coming on with the 
Burrs so soon now, that would never do, you see.” 

“Still, I wish you were on the nine, Ward,” said 
Henry. “ I want you, and the nine needs you.” 

“Oh, well,” replied Ward, speaking far more lightly 
than he felt, “ it’ll all come out right in the end. Jor- 
dan’s a hard road to travel, but I’ve got to take things 
as they come. ’ ’ 

“You’re doing great work in the classes, anyway, 
Ward. Dr. Gray told me the other night that your re- 
ports were great so far in the term. ’ ’ 

“Did he say that?” said Ward eagerly, his hunger 
for praise returning in an instant. 

“ Yes, that’s just what he said.” 

“Well, that’s enough without making the nine.” 

Ward’s prophecy proved to be correct. Unknown 
to him Henry and Jack went and had a talk with Tim 
Pickard, but the captain of the nine utterly refused to 
listen to any plea in Ward’s behalf. He threatened, if 
they persisted in pressing his claims, to throw up his 
own position and take with him the four members of 
the team whom he controlled, and with the aid of 
whose votes he was always able to have his own way, 
as with his own vote they made a majority. 

Neither of the boys informed Ward of their efforts 
on his behalf, fearing that the failure might serve to 
dampen the returning ardor which he now displayed. 


164 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


And Ward longed to be on the nine too. Conscious 
of his own ability as a player, and eager as he was for 
the excitement of the games and the applause of his 
fellows, it was no slight disappointment to feel that he 
was shut off from it all, and that he was powerless to 
change the conditions that surrounded him. 

He did not go down to the grounds every day, for 
that seemed to him too much as if he were pushing for 
his former place on the nine. Still, he went there fre- 
quently and willingly taking any position assigned him 
on the scrub team, threw himself into the game with all 
his heart. 

Meanwhile he did not neglect his lessons. Come 
what might, he was resolved to do well in them. As 
the days passed his own pleasure increased as he saw 
that no one in the class was doing better than he. 
Berry thus far was his most dangerous competitor, for 
‘ ‘ Luscious ’ ’ was a bright fellow and not one to shirk 
his work. His influence on Jack too, was becoming 
apparent, and Jack’s class work was far better than any 
he had ever done in the course of his three years at 
Weston. 

Jack seemed to rejoice in his own success too, and 
made many sly references to the honors he was hoping 
to win. Indeed, he was accustomed now to refer to 
himself and Ward and Luscious when the three by 
chance were together as the “ three valedics.” 

“And the greatest of the three — ah, that’s a secret. 
That’s to be revealed in the forthcoming chapters, as 
the books say, ’ ’ he would laughingly add. 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 


165 


Another -change also became manifest in Ward. 
There was no more surprised boy in all the Weston 
school than Big Smith, when one morning on his way 
to the Latin room Ward overtook him and walked on 
by his side. 

“Got your lesson, Smith?” said Ward. 

“No, not all of it. I fear I’m like the men that 
toiled all night and took nothing. I’ve been studying 
hours and hours on one passage here, but somehow I 
can’ t get it. ’ ’ 

“Which is it?” said Ward cordially. “Perhaps I 
can give you a lift. ’ ’ 

“ If you only would, Ward,” said Big Smith eagerly, 
as he opened the book at the difficult passage. 

Ward translated the passage, and when he had fin- 
ished, Big Smith said : “I don’t understand how it is, 
Ward, that you can do these things and I can’t. My 
brain is larger than yours,” and Big Smith removed his 
hat and thoughtfully stroked his hair as he spoke. 
“Now I’ve always heard that the size of a man’s head 
was the measure of his ability, and I know my hat is 
two sizes larger than yours, Ward. And yet you could 
read that place and I couldn’t,” he added ruefully. 
“ How do you account for it, Ward ? ” 

“Quality not quantity,” said Ward with a laugh, 
who was light-hearted in the consciousness of having 
helped another, a comparatively new experience for 
him. 

The consequences of that act made Ward afterward 
somewhat dubious as to the real benefits he had be- 


1 66 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

stowed on his classmate. Almost every evening Big 
Smith obtained permission from Mr. Blake to go up to 
Ward’s room, and for a long time he would remain 
there and listen to Ward as he translated the difficult 
passages for him. 

At last his presence during the study hour became a 
burden. “Big Smith is an unmitigated nuisance,” 
Henry declared. The boys posted great notices on their 
door which bore such alarming headlines as “Small- 
pox within,” “This is my busy day,” “No one ad- 
mitted except on business,” “Danger,” and other 
similar mild and suggestive devices. But Big Smith 
calmly ignored them all, and every night when the 
study hour was about half done would appear, and 
with his unmoved and benign countenance ask for the 
aid which Ward never refused him now. 

At last Henry declared it could be borne no longer, 
and as Ward knew how hard the work was for his chum 
and how Big Smith’s interruptions confused him, he 
uttered no protest when Henry boldly told the intruder 
one night that if he wanted help he must come for it 
out of study hours. 

“But I don’t ask you for help, Henry,” replied Big 
Smith in apparent surprise. 

“ I know that ; but you’re imposing onWard’s good 
nature, and I can’t study when you two fellows are 
talking. Besides, I don’t think it’s the square thing 
for you to take Ward’s work into class as your own.” 

‘ ‘ But I don’ t, ’ ’ protested Big Smith warmly. ‘ ‘ I 
never in my life took his work into class.” 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 1 67 

“Why don’t you get a pony, Big Smith? That 
would be the easiest way out of it. ’ ’ 

“ Me get a pony? Do you think I’d use a trans- 
lation? Not much. I’m thankful for one thing, and 
that is, I never have used a pony, as you call it, yet. ’ ’ 

“What do you call it when you come up here and 
get Ward to read your Latin and Greek to you, I’d 
like to know.’’ 

“That ? Oh, that’s not a pony. That’s just Ward 
Hill.” 

Both his hearers laughed in spite of their efforts to 
restrain themselves, Big Smith meanwhile looking from 
one to the other as if he were not quite able to see 
the joke. 

“No, Big Smith,” said Henry at last, “I don’t 
want to be small or mean, but I have to work hard for 
all I get, and when you come up here in study hours 
you just break me all up. I don’t mind it any other 
time ; but it doesn’t seem to me just the square thing 
to break in on another fellow’s time. I wouldn’t do it ; 
it doesn’t seem to me that Mr. Blake ought to let 
you do it, either. What are the study hours for? ” 

“I’m sure I don’t want to come here if I’m not 
wanted,” replied Big Smith soberly. 

“That’s not it; that’s not it at all,” protested 
Henry. “It’s only for a quiet study hour I’m argu- 
ing. I don’t think you ought to break in on another 
fellow’s work. Now, do you ? ” 

“But,” said Big Smith in his most solemn tones, 
“all my teachers say I’ve been doing a great deal bet- 


i68 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


ter work of late. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to 
drop back in my work or stand lower in the class, would 
you ? ’ ’ 

With a hopeless sigh Henry turned again to his work. 
It seemed as if it were almost impossible to impress the 
conception of the needs of any one else on Big Smith’s 
mind. 

Ward, however, finally adjusted matters to the satis- 
faction of both by promising his aid to Big Smith after 
breakfast each morning, in the hour between breakfast 
time and chapel. In his new desire to follow out Jack’s 
suggestion and make himself familiar and helpful to his 
companions, he never once thought of the harm he 
might be doing Big Smith. Indeed he went much 
further, and soon a number of the boys in the class 
joined Big Smith each morning and listened to Ward 
as he read aloud the lessons of the day. 

And Ward was thinking only of the aid he was giv- 
ing, not at all of the harm the others might receive. 
But then we are told in many ways outside the realm 
of physics that the reaction is always equal to the action. 
Perhaps Ward Hill, however, was yet to learn that les- 
son — a lesson which certainly each must learn for him- 
self and not for another. 

Meanwhile, through all these days Ward’s room had 
not been touched. Whoever had done the “stack- 
ing” had now, at least for a time, ceased from his 
labors. That there was still a very bitter feeling against 
him on the part of many he well knew, nor could he 
attribute it all to the immediate circle of the ‘ 4 Tangs. ’ ’ 


OUTSIDE LESSONS 


169 


Ward felt the prejudice keenly, but he resolutely 
held himself to his work, and by the aid he gave the 
boys in their lessons and by mingling with them more 
than he had done of late, he was hoping to win his way 
back to the position he had once held in the school. 

Nor was this born of a weak desire for popularity 
alone. That was true in part, but only in part ; but 
Ward Hill, as we have said, was one of those few per- 
sons who cannot deceive themselves. And he had 
realized the truthfulness of Jack’s and Mr. Crane’s 
words, and was now resolutely trying to set himself 
right. While he longed for and keenly enjoyed the 
praise and good-will of his fellows, still unless he felt 
in his heart that they were true and deserved he did not 
feel thoroughly happy in receiving them. So perhaps 
a dual motive was at work at this time on Ward’s heart 
— the eager longing for the praise of the school and the 
equally strong desire to feel that it was true and merited. 
Let us not blame him too harshly. Purely good motives 
are sadly lacking in this world of ours. And then, even 
a gold coin contains some alloy, but the most of us are 
not inclined to reject the use which can be made of it 
because of the baser metal it contains. 

Little Pond was now doing nobly. He looked up to 
Ward with unbounded confidence. Ward more than 
once found himself wondering whether he had ever 
looked up to a senior in that way. Still he rejoiced in 
the little fellow’s success and felt strongly drawn to him, 
although he knew in his heart that his days of trial were 
not all past. 


170 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

And now the approaching game with the Burrs be- 
came the absorbing topic of the school. The nine was 
working vigorously and Ward went down more fre- 
quently to play on the team which was to give them 
their daily practice. 

No one knew how heavy his heart was and with 
what unutterable longing he desired his place on the 
team. Still he held himself resolutely to the line he 
had marked out. He studied faithfully, tried to make 
himself friendly with the boys, and apparently threw 
himself heartily into the task of giving the nine the 
practice they sadly needed. And no one heard him 
complain, and not even to Jack did he mention his 
desire for his former position, a position now filled by 
Ripley. And yet somehow he had the feeling that 
Jack understood, although neither made any reference 
to it now. 

So matters stood on the day before the great game. 
The final preparations had been completed, the last 
practice of the nine had occurred, and throughout the 
school there was the strong though subdued excite- 
ment which always preceded the great game. 

But Ward Hill, with a heavy heart and a kind of dull 
misery, looked forward to the morrow. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME 
HE following morning dawned clear and bright, 



L and many a boy in the Weston school gave a 
sigh of relief when first he looked from his windows. 
The rugged hills, now covered with the highly tinted 
autumn foliage, displayed patches of clouds resting on 
their summits or creeping far up along the wooded 
slopes. The sun, however, would soon burn away all 
such slight affairs as these gray-colored floating clouds 
or stretches of fog, and the boys were rejoicing. 

The games with the Burrs were the great events of 
the school year. Not only were the schools them- 
selves of equally high standing, and in a sense rivals, 
but the advantage for a few years now in the ball games 
had been with the Burrs, and the Weston boys conse- 
quently were especially eager to win this time. As the 
game was to be played upon their own grounds they 
had a slight advantage, but all were somewhat nervous 
and the excitement ran correspondingly high. 

There were to be recitations in the morning only. 
It was almost impossible for the eager lads to hold 
themselves to their work, but the teachers were some- 
what lenient with them, and some of the ludicrous mis- 
takes were passed over with a smile. 


172 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Indeed, it was whispered that the teachers them- 
selves were not far behind the boys in sharing the 
excitement which pervaded the school, and were as de- 
sirous that the nine should win as were the players 
themselves. 

Soon after noon carriages could be seen coming along 
the pretty valley roads or making their way over the 
hillsides. But whether from hill or valley made no dif- 
ference, for there was one destination for them all and 
that was the ball ground. Old and young, men and 
women, boys and girls were there, and the assembled 
crowd gave promise of being unusually large. 

The great barges filled with the boys and girls from 
the neighboring school began to put in an appearance, 
for the rival school was co-educational in its methods, 
and the girls were apparently as eager and excited as 
their brothers. Long streamers and banners floated 
out from behind the well-filled wagons and many of 
the girls were waving flags or long ribbons of the school 
colors, handily adjusted to a cane or some similar de- 
vice. 

A crowd of the Weston boys was waiting in front of 
the chapel for the Burr nine to come, for it was known 
that they were to have a special wagon, which was to be 
drawn by four horses. 

Some of the members of the Weston nine, clad in 
their bright new uniforms, mingled with the crowd and 
as a committee were waiting to welcome and conduct 
the visiting nine to the dressing rooms. Their efforts 
to appear calm and unmindful of the attention they 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME 1 73 

attracted provoked a smile from some of the waiting 
boys, but no one begrudged them the honors which 
were theirs, and as they joined in the shouts and 
laughter which continually arose, or stopped to con- 
verse about the prospects of the nine in the coming 
game, the interest steadily increased. 

“There they are ! There they come !” suddenly 
some one in the crowd shouted, and in a moment the 
sound of the horn carried by the Burrs could be heard 
in the distance. In a brief time the huge wagon drew 
up before the crowd and the Burr nine leaped nimbly 
out upon the ground. 

‘ ‘ Hello, Shackford, ’ ’ said Tim Pickard advancing 
and grasping the outstretched hand of the rival cap- 
tain. “Glad to see you. If we have as big a game 
as we have crowd, there will be something to see before 
night comes. * ’ 

Tim proceeded to shake hands with each member of 
the team and then at once started with them to lead 
the way to the rooms which had been assigned to the 
visitors. 

The waiting crowd parted and stood watching with 
undisguised curiosity the opposing nine as they filed 
past them following Tim. Certainly they were a sturdy 
lot, and the low murmurs which could be heard among 
the Weston boys as the others withdrew were not en- 
tirely those of confidence in the success of their own 
team. 

Meanwhile Ward Hill had gone down to the ball 
ground and lay on the grass in the rear of the field in 


174 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


a place from which he could easily follow the progress 
of the game. 

Beside him were Henry and Jack, both in uniforms, 
the latter sitting erect and occasionally pounding the 
ground before him with the bat he was holding in his 
hands. Not one of the trio was happy, and Ward least 
so of the three, although he was striving manfully to 
appear unmindful of the excitement which, though sub- 
dued, was still apparent on all sides of them. 

“It’s tough, Ward," said Jack ; “ I want to win this 
game, but I never went into one with such a mean feel- 
ing as I’ve got now. It’s a shame you’re not to play. 
It’s worse than a shame. The nine needs you and I 
know how you feel, old fellow. Say, Ward,’’ he added, 
suddenly leaping to his feet, “if you’ll say the word, 
we’ll fix Tim yet. Henry and I can go to him and de- 
clare that if he won’t take you on, we’re off. And 
he’ll have to give in now, with the crowd all here and 
everything ready to begin. ’ ’ 

“Yes, Ward, that’s what we’ll do,’’ chimed in 
Henry. “ It can be done now.’’ 

“No, fellows,’’ said Ward shaking his head. “I 
told you I couldn’t go on in that way ; and then too, 
I’m not in practice, you know.’’ 

“Bother the practice! You’ll do better without 
it than most of us can with it. Here they come, 
Ward ! Say the word and the deed’s done.’’ 

But Ward still shook his head. He could not bring 
himself to do what Jack asked. And yet how he did 
long to be in the game ! 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME 1 75 

The appearance of the nines upon the field was 
greeted by a shout and the school cheers were almost 
deafening on every side. The banners and flags were 
waving, the girls were standing erect in the carriages, 
and the entire scene was stirring and exhilarating in the 
highest degree. “Good luck to you, fellows,” said 
Ward as Jack and Henry started to go and join their 
comrades. 

Neither of them replied save by the look which they 
gave him and soon were with the nine. v 

The ground was cleared now, and the allotted time 
of preliminary practice for each team was given. As 
Ward watched the boys it almost seemed to him that 
he could not endure the sight. Only a year before and 
he had been one of the team. Even now he could 
feel again the thrill which he had when at the close of 
that famous game his mates had borne him from the 
field on their shoulders. But now no one seemed to 
care whether he played or not. And all the time there 
was the consciousness in his own heart that there was 
not a better player than he in all the Weston school. 

Summoning all his resolution he left his place and 
took a position near the end of the long line of Weston 
boys who were standing well back on one side of the 
ground. He had seen Big Smith and Pond there, and 
even their company was comforting to him now. 

“Hello, Ward,” was Big Smith’s hail as Ward ap- 
proached ; “I should think you would wish you were 
on the nine now. Do you know, I almost feel as if I 
could play well enough myself to take a position.” 


176 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Ward made no response, though Big Smith little 
realized how his words had stung the troubled boy. 
The Weston nine had taken their positions in the field 
and the game was about to begin. 

Ward glanced out toward left field, his old position, 
and his heart was bitter toward Ripley, who now was 
playing there. Ward knew he could fill the place much 
better than Ripley ever could. Indeed, his heart was 
so bitter that he was almost divided in his feelings be - 
tween his desire for the Weston boys to win, and that 
Ripley and Tim should not put up a good game. 

But everything was in readiness now and the hush 
which came over the assembly betrayed the suppressed 
excitement. Shackford grasped his bat and advanced 
to the plate, the umpire tossed the ball to Tim and 
gave the word, and the game with the Burrs was be- 
gun. 

Tim settled himself into his position, drew back his 
arm and sent the ball in with all the speed he could put 
forth. Shackford for two years had been the captain of 
the Burr nine and his prowess was well known. There 
was no one the Weston boys feared as they did him. 

Shackford was ready, and the very first ball Tim 
sent in he caught fairly on the end of the bat and sent 
far down the field close to the foul flag. 

A shout of delight arose from all the friends of the 
Burrs as the runner started swiftly toward the first base. 

“Foul, foul ball !” called the umpire and Shack- 
ford stopped suddenly on his way to the second base. 

A murmur of disapproval arose from the crowd, and 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME I 

Ward, who was standing not very far from the place 
where the ball had struck, shook his head. To him 
the ball had seemed fair, but he said nothing and ad- 
mired the spirit of Shackford as he raised his hand 
toward his supporters, betokening his desire for no man- 
ifestations of the kind which had just been heard, and 
went slowly back to the home-plate and once more 
picking up his bat stood facing the pitcher. 

4 * One strike ! ’ ’ called the umpire as Tim sent the 
ball swiftly in. 

‘ ‘ Two strikes ! ” he called again as the second ball 
went whirling past. 

A low murmur could be heard as the excitement of 
the watching crowd increased. Shackford was ready 
and stood grimly waiting for Tim’s next move. “ One 
ball” and “two balls” followed and the strain on all 
was becoming more intense. 

The next ball, however, was apparently the very one 
for which the captain of the Burrs had been waiting, 
for he struck it hard and squarely, and it went far up 
into the air directly into the territory which Ripley was 
guarding. 

Again a shout of delight was heard from the sup- 
porters of the Burrs, but it was hushed in a moment as 
Ripley took his stand and waited with outstretched 
hands for the descending ball. 

Shackford was speeding on toward the third base, 
but Ward was unmindful of him. He was watching 
his supplanter in left field. The ball settled lower and 
lower ; but whether it was because Ripley was highly ex- 
M 


178 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


cited or had misjudged the ball was not known ; it 
struck his hands and bounded out again. The fielder 
had squarely muffed it. 

A groan arose from the Weston boys, and “ Hi ! yi ! 
yi ! ” came from many of the friends of the Burrs. 

Ward could not lament Ripley’s failure, that would 
have been too much to expect of human nature ; but 
still he turned angrily, as he heard the shouts, and then 
said to Little Pond : ‘ ‘ That’ s a mean trick ! no one 
ought to applaud his opponents’ errors. ’ ’ 

‘‘I don’t see why not,” said Big Smith. 

“ Because it’s no way to do,” said Ward. “ If you 
can’t win squarely you don’t want to win at all. But 
keep still. Let’s see what’ll be done now.” 

Shackford was on third base now, and as he kept 
dancing about, Tim, who had the ball, threw it to the 
baseman, but in his eagerness he sent it over his head 
among the crowd. Shackford ran home, much to the 
delight of his friends and the chagrin of the Weston 
boys. The first run had been scored with no one out. 

Three more of the Burr nine crossed the plate before 
the inning closed, the success of Shackford evidently 
encouraging his followers even more than the glaring 
errors of their opponents. When the Weston boys 
came in to take their turn at the bat their faces were 
glum and the prospect was far from bright. Tim was 
the first batter, and got his base on balls. 

As Jack Hobart stepped to the plate to follow him, 
Ward turned to the boys near him and called : “ Let’s 
give him a cheer, fellows ! ’ * 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME 1 79 

The cheers rang out, Ward’s voice being the loudest 
of them all. Evidently Jack felt the stimulus, for he 
sent the ball between left and center fields, and Tim 
was soon on third, while Jack rested on second. But 
neither could go any farther. The next two batters 
struck out, and the third sent up a little fly which 
Shackford himself easily caught. 

‘‘Four to nothing,” said Ward as the sides changed. 
“ Not a very bright outlook.” But the inning closed 
without another run being scored. 

On the Weston side Henry succeeded in making the 
circuit of the bases and thus scored the first run for the 
team. The two succeeding innings failed to add to the 
score of either side. Both nines were playing desper- 
ately, and the interest and excitement of the spectators 
momentarily increased. 

“Four to one,” said Ward as the fifth inning was 
begun. 

He had led the cheering in the portion of the crowd 
where he stood, and in his eagerness for the Weston 
boys to win, for the time he had almost forgotten his 
own disappointment. Ripley had struck out each time 
he had been at the bat, and certainly his success in the 
field had not been very marked thus far. 

Again it was Shackford’ s turn to bat, and as he ad- 
vanced to the plate the expression of determination on 
his face was to be clearly seen. Four to one was cer- 
tainly no small advantage, and the captain of the Burrs 
was determined to hold it if such a thing were possible. 

Again he waited until two strikes and two balls had 


180 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

been called. The crowd evidently was anxious, but 
Shackford appeared to be as cool and calm as if nothing 
were expected from him. 

Ward had glanced aside a moment. The suspense 
of the spectators was interesting if nothing more. 
He was suddenly recalled by a yell which seemed to 
have arisen from a thousand throats. Shackford had 
lifted the ball high into the air, and once more it was 
coming directly into Ripley’s territory. 

The eager fielder started after the ball. He was com- 
pelled to run back and to Ward it seemed as if the ball 
were going far over his head. But having gone back 
as far as was necessary, Ripley turned sharply and ran 
in. The ball was settling lower and lower now, and 
just as the fielder stretched forth his hands for it his 
feet slipped from under him and he fell headlong on 
the ground, while the ball went rolling far beyond him. 

When he had regained his footing and sent the ball 
in Shackford was once more on third base. A low but 
pronounced murmur rose from the Weston crowd which 
could be heard even above the shouts of the Burrs, but 
in a moment silence was restored, as the next batter 
took his place and faced Tim. The crack which re- 
sounded when he struck the ball could be heard all over 
the field. As if with design the ball went skipping along 
the ground after it struck just back of Jack’s position as 
short stop, and went rolling swiftly toward Ripley. 
The excited lad tried desperately to stop it, but failed, 
and the ball slipped between his legs and went on far 
behind him. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE GREAT GAME 1 8 1 


The murmurings of the crowd were unmistakable 
now. “Put him off! Put him out! Hill! Hill! 
Ward Hill ! Put him off ! Put him out ! Ward Hill ! ” 
could be heard on every side. 

Ward’s heart was beating rapidly, and he tried to 
draw back out of sight ; but for two minutes the cries 
continued, for boys are merciless in their judgments. 
At last quiet was in a measure restored and the game 
went on, but the inning closed with the score six to 
one against the Weston boys. 

Ward could see that a crowd of angry students, chief 
among whom were Jack and Henry, quickly surrounded 
Tim and an animated conversation took place, though 
he could not hear any of the words which were spoken. 
He was hardly prepared for what followed, however, for 
after a momentary hesitation Tim started down the 
lines of the waiting spectators, and as he caught sight 
of Ward he quickly turned and approached him. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 

“ ' | "‘HE fellows want you to take Ripley’s place, ” 
X said Tim gruffly. 

Ward’s heart responded in an instant. The Weston 
boys were to bat now and the excitement in the crowd 
was increasing. He longed to have a share in the 
work which must be done within the four innings yet to 
be played. It was a marvelous thing too, that Tim 
should himself come and invite him to return to his 
place. It was true he was surly, and his countenance 
betrayed his feelings. The pressure of the nine and 
the crowd had been too strong for him to resist ; and 
then, doubtless the advantage which the Burr nine had 
thus far won also had its influence, for no one more 
earnestly desired to win the game than did Tim Pick- 
ard. 

Eager as Ward was, he still hesitated a moment. 
He well knew that Tim’s anger would not cease if he 
should do well ; while if he should fail in a time when 
so much was expected, his position in the school would 
be all the more trying. 

Tim stood waiting before him and did not repeat his 
request. 

In a moment Jack came running toward him, and 
182 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 1 83 

as he came up, said : “ Hurry up, Ward ! Never 
mind the uniform. We won’t stop for that. Just 
throw off your coat and come on. You can afford to 
spoil a dozen suits rather than let the Burrs win this 
game ! * ’ 

Noticing the hesitation of his friend, Jack continued : 
“Oh, don’t pull off now, Ward ! all the school wants 
you. We’ve just got to have you, and that’s all there 
is to it. Did you ever in your life see such work as 
Ripley made of it? I don’t believe he could stop the 
moon if it was rolled at him by a baby. Come on, 
Ward, come on ! Tim and I have got to go and bat, 
and we can’ t stay any longer. All the fellows want him, 
don’t they, Tim?” he added, turning to the captain of 
the nine. 

“That’s what they say,” growled Tim, and yet 
Ward could readily see that he was almost as eager for 
him to play as Jack was, only he could not bring him- 
self to urge the boy whom he had abused in so many 
ways and hated with such a genuine hatred. 

Just at this juncture Mr. Crane approached and 
touching Ward lightly upon the shoulder said in a low 
voice : “I should go in, Hill. You’ve nothing to lose 
and much to gain. Remember, you’ve had your Lex- 
ington and the Declaration of Independence and 
Trenton and Princeton, and now you’re at Monmouth. 
Don’t let the British or General Lee baffle you now. 
Besides, you must think of the school too. ’ ’ 

Ward looked at the teacher in as great surprise as 
did Jack and Tim, and his hesitation was gone. He 


1 84 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


had no desire to appear unwilling or indifferent, for he 
certainly was not controlled by either feeling. He 
longed to enter the game and did not wish to be 
‘ ‘ coaxed ’ ’ into it. All his hesitation had arisen from 
the fear that if he should not do well his position in 
the school would not be improved, and the enmity of 
Tim’s special friends would only be intensified. 

‘ ‘ I’ 11 come in, ’ ’ he said gently, ‘ 1 and do the best I 
can.” 

“Good for you, Ward ! good for you ! ” shouted 
Jack tossing his hat into the air and turning a somer- 
sault. “He’ll take Ripley’s place at the bat then, 
won’t he, Tim ? ” 

“ I suppose so,” replied Tim. 

“ Come on then, Ward. Maybe you’ll get a chance 
this inning. Tim, you’re next up,” he added as he 
noticed who the batsman was, “and I follow you. 
We’ll have to go now, Ward. Come up and take a 
seat on the players’ bench.” 

“I’ll be around in time,” replied Ward quietly. 

For several reasons he preferred to retain his place 
in the crowd for the present, unless his turn to bat 
should come. 

Somehow fortune’s wheel turned slightly in favor of 
the Weston boys, and although Ward’s turn to bat did 
not come, the inning closed with two more runs scored 
by the nine. 

“Six to three,” shouted the boys as the players 
started for their places in the field. 

Ward’s heart was beating high as he slowly drew off 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 1 85 

his coat and handed it to Little Pond, who proudly re- 
ceived it, and then he started toward his old place in 
left field. 

His appearance was at once noted by the crowd and 
received with a cheer. It was true it seemed to be 
wanting in the volume and heartiness of the old-time 
applause, but still it did Ward’s heart good. 

Striving to appear unmindful he looked away from 
the crowd as the game was now resumed. What had 
become of Ripley he did not know. 

The inning was quickly ended, without a run being 
scored. Not a ball had come near him, and Ward 
was not grieved over the fact, for his nerves were in 
such a highly strung condition that he was fearful he 
would not have been able to do much had the oppor- 
tunity presented itself. 

He was the second to bat, however, and as he heard 
his name called he carefully selected his bat and then 
tried to collect his thoughts and appear calm, though he 
was far from feeling as he strove to appear. 

Shackford, the pitcher of the Burr nine apparently 
was becoming somewhat nervous, for he gave the first 
batter his base on balls. 

Ward grasped his bat and started resolutely toward 
the plate. The crowd was silent, but Ward realized 
how eager his friends were for him to do well. Even 
a goodly portion of Tim’s sneer had disappeared, and 
Ward could not determine whether his stronger desire 
was now for the nine to win or for him to fail. The 
task before the lad, however, quickly banished all other 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


I 86 

thoughts from his mind. How eager he was and de- 
termined to do his best. 

“One strike,” called the umpire. “Two strikes,” 
he repeated a moment later. 

Shackford was doing his utmost to puzzle him and 
Ward began to fear that he would strike out. The next 
ball, however, came close in to him and before he 
could dodge it or step out of its way it struck the han- 
dle of his bat and dropped a little ways from the plate. 
In an instant Ward flung aside his bat and rushed at his 
swiftest pace for first base, the runner in advance of him 
of course having started for second. 

The excitement and necessity for quick action appar- 
ently rattled the Burrs, for both Shackford and the 
catcher started together for the ball, and as no one 
called out who was to make the play, the consequence 
was that they came together in a sharp collision, and 
were both thrown to the ground. 

Before they could recover Ward was safe at first, and 
the other runner had gained the second base. 

Shackford now began to play more deliberately. 
Every move was carefully timed, and he guarded his 
nine well. In spite of all the efforts of the Weston 
boys, and the encouraging shouts of their friends among 
the spectators, they could succeed in getting but one 
man around the bases, Ward having been left on third. 

“Six to four, and only two more innings to play,” 
said Jack to Ward as they walked together out upon 
the field to resume their positions. “Not a very bril- 
liant prospect for us. * ’ 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 1 87 

“We’ll not give up before the last man is out,” said 
Ward. “There’s nothing more uncertain in all the 
world than a game of ball, and it’s never finished till 
the end has come.” 

He had done nothing to warrant any special praise 
thus far, but he was in high spirits nevertheless. The 
increasing excitement as the game drew toward its close 
was manifest among players and spectators alike, and 
Ward Hill, as we know, was ever one of the quickest 
to respond to his immediate surroundings. 

Again the inning closed without the Burrs being able 
to score. The utmost they could do was to get a man 
as far as second base, but there he was left. 

“We’ve got two turns at the bat and they’ve got 
one,” said Jack, as they came in from the field. 
“We’ve got to make three rims to win the game.” 

The inning opened very promisingly for the Weston 
boys. Both Tim and Jack made hits, and were on 
third and second bases respectively. The next two 
batters were out however, and as they all realized that 
everything depended upon the efforts of the next man, 
the crowd followed his movements with almost breath- 
less interest. 

4 ‘ One strike ! ’ ’ called the umpire, and the various 
feelings of the spectators were at once apparent in their 
responses. * ‘ One ball ! ” “ Two balls ! ’ ’ quickly 

followed. 

Suddenly the crowd rose from their seats and stood 
leaning forward in intense suspense as they followed 
the movements of the catcher, who had let the ball 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


188 

which Shackford had pitched somewhat wildly get by 
him. Tim started quickly from third, and was running 
as he had never run before. Shackford stood waiting 
on the plate with outstretched hands for the ball to be 
thrown by the catcher, who was doing his utmost to get 
it and return it before Tim could gain the plate. Every 
player was eagerly watching the movements, and not a 
sound could be heard from the spectators. Nearer and 
nearer came Tim, and now the catcher had grasped the 
rolling ball. With a quick movement he turned and 
threw it swiftly to Shackford, who caught it just as Tim 
gained the plate, and running into the player threw 
both heavily to the ground. 

The crowd rushed in from their places eager to learn 
the decision of the umpire, who had been standing 
close to the boys as they came together. 

“He’s out !” shouted the umpire as he waved his 
hand for the spectators to go back to their places. 

For a moment there was a scene of confusion. In 
their excitement many of the boys forgot what was 
expected of them, and the shouts and cheers of the 
schools were mingled with the groans and cries of those 
who took different views of the decision which had just 
been made. 

Tim was thoroughly angry, and stood talking loudly 
with the umpire, claiming that he had cheated him out 
of a run and the nine from a score which it had justly 
won. 

In a moment however several of the boys had sur- 
rounded the excited captain, and at last, after much 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 1 89 

persuasion, induced him to return to his place in the 
field. 

1 ‘It was close,” said Jack to Ward, “and I think 
we ought to have had it; but we can’t help ourselves, 
and there’s no use in kicking.” 

The excitement was now intense as the Burrs came 
to the bat for the last time. The score still stood two 
in their favor, and even if they did not succeed in 
adding to it, the advantage was still decidedly on their 
side. Every movement of the players was cheered 
now, and the nervous actions of the rival nines betrayed 
their own desires to win. 

Tim Pickard was sending the balls in with a speed 
he had never had before. If his own exertions could 
win the game, then surely the Weston boys ought not 
to lose that day. 

The first batsman struck out, and a fierce cheer arose 
from the Weston contingent as the player flung his bat 
on the ground and strode back to his place on the 
bench. 

The next was struck by the first ball Tim threw in, 
and was evidently hurt, but in a moment he pluckily 
started toward first base, and the cheers of the specta- 
tors followed him. 

His successor also struck out, and the din which arose 
was almost deafening. All depended now upon the 
efforts of the next batter, and the Weston boys’ hearts 
sank when they saw that this was to be Shackford, the 
heaviest hitter on the opposing nine. 

Shackford grasped his bat and stood calmly facing 


190 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

Tim, each realizing that it was now a battle royal. Tim 
was a trifle wild now, and the fears of his friends in- 
creased when the batter hit one or two long fouls that 
went far down the field, but luckily outside the lines. 
Again Shackford hit the ball, and sent it with tremen- 
dous force down the field directly toward the short stop. 
Jack made a desperate effort to stop it, but it was going 
so swiftly that it almost threw him backward, and he 
dropped the ball. In an instant however he recovered 
himself, and quickly picking up the ball threw it swiftly 
to the second baseman, who was waiting for it. He 
caught it just an instant before the runner gained the 
base, and the umpire shouted, “Out !” 

The din on the field now increased. Most of the 
spectators were standing, and the boys were crowding 
close in to the lines. Each of the Weston players was 
cheered by name as he approached the plate and stood 
facing the calm and collected pitcher of the Burrs. 

The first man was out, and a yell of delight arose 
from the supporters of the Burrs. 

The second made a hit, and a louder shout arose 
from the friends of the Weston nine. 

The third batter sent up a high foul, which was easily 
caught by the third baseman, and the uproar broke out 
again. Another gained his base, and now two men 
were out, two were on the bases, and two runs were 
required to tie the game, and three to win, and it 
was Ward Hill’s turn to bat. Already some of the 
outer spectators were leaving the grounds, for the game 
seemed to be practically ended. 


THE END OF THE GREAT GAME 1 9 1 

“Now do your duty, Ward Hill!” called Jack as 
Ward grasped his bat and started toward the plate. 
“ Remember everything depends upon you.” 

Ward made no reply. Was it likely he could fail to 
realize how much depended upon him ? He was dimly 
conscious of the applause which greeted him. Eager 
faces seemed to surround him, and the tension was in- 
tense. 

Shackford brushed back the hair from his wet fore- 
head, glanced coolly about him at the runners on the 
bases and to see that his own men were all ready, then 
quickly drew back his arm and sent the ball in swiftly 
and directly over the plate. 

‘ ‘ One strike ! ’ ’ called the umpire, and shrieks and 
calls resounded from the crowd. 

Before Ward could prepare himself Shackford swiftly 
drew back his arm and sent in another ball. 

“Two strikes!” shouted the umpire, and cheers 
and jeers alike could now be heard. Indeed, many 
more of the spectators arose to depart, for it seemed 
to be evident that the end had come. Only one more 
ball might be necessary. 

Shackford sent in the ball again, but this time Ward 
was ready. He hit it squarely, and with all his force. 
Only realizing that the ball was going, he started swiftly 
toward first base. It seemed to him that pandemonium 
had broken loose behind him. Shrieks, calls, shouts, 
and cheers were all mingled. 

As he touched the first base and started toward 
second he looked at the ball. He had sent it far out 


192 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


over the center-fielder’s head, and not yet had he 
caught up with it. It was a terrific hit, and all of 
Ward’s long pent up feelings seemed to have found 
vent in the force with which he had struck. On and 
on sped the ball, and on and on ran Ward. 

Before he had gained the third base both of the 
runners in advance of him had scored. He touched 
the third base, and putting forth all his speed started 
toward home. The applause was deafening now. He 
was dimly conscious of a mass of waving banners and 
flags off on his right, and that “ Hi ! yi ! yi ! ” could 
be heard on every side. 

“Go it, Ward ! Go it ! ” shouted Jack intensely as 
he ran outside the line to encourage his friend ; and 
Ward was “going it’’ at his very best. 

He bent low and rushed forward. He could hardly 
breathe now, but his speed did not slacken. On and 
on he ran, until it seemed to him he never could gain 
the coveted base. 

Putting forth all the last remnant of his strength he 
obeyed Jack’s warning, and throwing himself on the 
ground touched the base just as a last, loud, prolonged 
yell came from the crowd. 

With his hand on the plate he for the first time 
glanced behind him. The ball had just been thrown 
in and Shackford had caught it. The game with the 
Burrs was won, and Ward Hill’s long hit had won it. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 

W ARD at first was only conscious that there was 
a scene of great excitement being enacted all 
over the grounds. He had exerted himself to the ut- 
most, and breathless and hardly able to stand he dimly 
realized that a crowd of boys had surrounded him, and 
that the game was won. Soon, however, he recovered, 
and with a beaming face looked out upon the actions of 
his friends. Hats were thrown into the air, shouts and 
cheers could be heard on every side. 

Silence only was to be found among the supporters 
of the Burrs, and they were already departing from the 
field. The treble shouts of the girls had ceased, the 
banners and streamers which had been flung out were 
nowhere to be seen now, but the very absence of all 
the signs of cheer among the friends of the opposing 
nine only served to make more emphatic the frantic 
joy of the Weston boys. 

It was the first game they had won in more than two 
years from their sturdy opponents, and naturally the 
long pent up feelings now broke forth with the reserve 
of the time past. 

For a long time the confusion continued. The cries 
would die away in a measure, and then some enthusiast 
n 193 


194 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


would lead in a cheer, and the entire school and all its 
friends would take up the response, and it would seem 
that all the previous enthusiasm would be redoubled. 

Boys who had not spoken to Ward since his return 
to Weston now rushed forward, eager to do him honor. 
He was the center of a constantly increasing group, for 
those who had been foremost to praise him did not 
depart when others came with their offering. 

“Hill, I wish to congratulate you.” 

Ward turned as he heard the words, and saw Shack- 
ford, the captain of the Burrs, standing before him with 
outstretched hand. 

“I want to congratulate you,” said Shackford again 
cordially. “That was a magnificent hit. I never saw 
a heavier one. Of course I’m sorry we lost the game, 
and I know that such a hit as that doesn’t reflect very 
much credit upon the pitcher of the Burrs, but all the 
same, I don’t want to be the last to honor the fellow 
that did it.” 

“Thank you,” said Ward, highly pleased over the 
cordial expression. “You needn’t say a word about 
the pitcher of the Burrs. I thought when you caught 
me napping with that second strike of yours that it was 
good-bye with me. I wanted to hit you,” he added 
laughingly, “but I was afraid I couldn’t, so I feel all 
the better that it has turned out as it has.” 

“After your work last year, I was surprised when I 
heard that you were not to play to-day. At first I felt 
afraid that if you were off the nine, it must be that the 
Weston boys had found some still better material, and 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 


195 


I knew if that were true we had a great contract on 
our hands. It wasn’t long though before I was chuc- 
kling because you were not in the game, and I can tell 
you I didn’t rejoice very much when I saw you throw 
off your coat and start for left field. Still, I hope I’m 
not so small as not to be able to appreciate a good play 
even when it’s made by the other side, and I must say, 
Hill, that hit of yours was great. It just won the game, 
and the Weston school ought to erect a monument in 
your honor ; they ought to, honestly.” 

Shackford’s words served to increase the eagerness 
of the boys who had crowded about Ward, and much 
as he enjoyed the novel experience he soon began to 
feel somewhat abashed. He caught sight of Little 
Pond looking at him with longing eyes from the border 
of the assembly, and pushing his way toward him, 
Ward was soon grasping his youthful admirer by the 
hand. 

“ O Ward, I’m so glad,” said Little Pond eagerly. 

‘ ‘ Everybody’ s praising you. ’ ’ 

“Are they?” replied Ward, laughing as he spoke. 
“Well, I’m glad we won the game.” 

He started to depart from the grounds now, but a 
crowd of boys still followed him, all eager to honor the 
senior who had won the day and saved the honor of 
the school. 

And Ward Hill was happy. His heart was exulting 
over his success, and the praise of his fellows was 
doubly sweet to him after his long period of trouble. 
He knew he had done well, and the consciousness that 


196 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Tim Pickard at last had been compelled to come to him 
for aid, was perhaps not the least of the sources of his 
enjoyment. 

As the boys came up to the campus and turned the 
corner by the chapel, Tim and Ripley stood there talk- 
ing with some of the Burr boys. They could not fail 
to perceive Ward in the midst of the crowd, but neither 
Tim nor Ripley gave any signs of recognition. 

Ward turned to Jack and laughed aloud, so loudly 
that both Tim and Ripley heard him, and a flush of 
anger spread over their faces. 

“Tim would rather have lost the game than have 
had it won in the way it was,” said Ward, as he started 
to leave Jack and go to his own room. 

“Oh, well,” replied Jack gleefully, “you can’t 
blame Tim for making a wry face over swallowing his 
dose ; but it may do him good, after all. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps so,” said Ward dubiously. 

In his heart just at that moment he cared but little 
about Tim Pickard’s feelings toward him. In the flush 
of success and the apparent return of his popularity he 
could afford to be magnanimous, and Tim and all his 
petty torments seemed now to be too slight to be 
heeded. 

For two or three days Ward’s long hit was the one 
theme of the school. Not all of the boys, however, 
joined in singing his praises, for Tim was not without 
his followers, and his influence was sufficiently strong 
to hold them back ; but the enthusiasm of the others 
more than atoned for the failures, and Ward Hill was 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 1 97 

far happier than he had ever been since he became a 
student in the Weston school. 

The consciousness of having done good work in his 
classes was the main foundation of it all. The appeals 
of Little Pond, and the manner in which he himself, 
with Jack’s aid, had met and stopped the stacking of 
his room, also helped him now, and he rejoiced that 
he had not stooped to retaliate in Tim’s room, as he 
had been sorely tempted to do. 

It may be that his success, and the sudden change 
which had come in his standing in the school, may have 
led Ward unknowingly to assume a new air. If he 
did, it was done wholly unconsciously, but in some way 
he had come to glance sneeringly at Tim whenever he 
met him. He felt so strong now that he could afford 
to condescend, even to Tim Pickard himself. 

One morning, three days after the game, and when 
the excitement which had followed it had somewhat 
abated, as Ward, after passing Tim on their way out 
from Mr. Crane’s room, and returning the glance of 
hatred which the captain of the nine had given him, 
was recalled by Mr. Crane, he stopped a moment in 
front of his desk. 

“I haven’t seen you to speak to you since the 
game,” said Mr. Crane kindly. “I wanted to tell 
you that I rejoiced in your success, but perhaps you 
may have heard all the words of that kind that you 
care to hear.” 

“Not from you,” replied Ward, his face flushing 
with pleasure. 


198 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“What are you reading in your Greek now? ” in- 
quired Mr. Crane. 

“Homer,” said Ward, wondering what that had to 
do with the game with the Burrs. 

‘ ‘ Do you recall the term which Homer applies to 
Achilles ? * * 

“Yes, ‘swift-footed’ is one of them.” 

“And what is the term which is so frequently given 
the Greek heroes ? ’ ’ 

“Why they’re called ‘ well-greaved, ’ and ‘great- 
souled,’ ‘great-hearted,’ and, and ” 

“That’s the word I wanted. The great-hearted, 
great-souled men. There’s a Latin word which is 
almost the equivalent of the term, and the word was 
such a good one that it has been retained in many 
languages, and has come down to us in a form but 
slightly modified. Do you know what the word is ? ” 

Ward hesitated a moment, and then, as his mind 
always worked rapidly, his face lightened up as he said, 
“Why, it’s the word ‘magnanimous,’ isn’t it?” 

“That’s the very word. And what does that word 
literally mean, then ? ” 

“ Large-minded.” 

“That’s right. I mustn’t detain you any longer or 
you’ll be late for your Greek. Come and see me some 
time soon, Hill.” 

Ward went out of the room, -but he was somewhat 
puzzled over his interview with the teacher. What did 
Mr. Crane mean by asking him those questions ? Was 
he only trying to test his knowledge ? Ward knew 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 


199 


better than that. Mr. Crane was not one to put idle 
questions to him, especially at such a time as he had 
chosen for the brief interview. But what could he 
mean? 

Ward entered the Greek room, but he only partially 
heard what Dr. Gray was saying to the class. Boy after 
boy was called upon to recite, but Ward was giving 
slight heed to what was occurring about him. His 
thoughts were upon Mr. Crane’s strange questions. 
What could he mean by them? He never assumed 
that manner, his eyes slightly twinkling as if there was 
some concealed joke in his mind and his grave, quiet 
ways being all the more impressive, without having 
something more than the mere questions in his mind. 

The recitation was about half done, when suddenly 
Ward started up in his seat. His face flushed as he 
almost spoke aloud. 

Jack looked at him in astonishment, but Ward made 
no reply as he hastily turned again to his book, and 
apparently was only following the recitation. And yet 
in a flash it had come to him what Mr. Crane had 
meant by his questions. At first he felt somewhat re- 
sentful, but as his mind ran rapidly over the events of 
the past few days, he could not conceal from himself 
the fact that he had given too much justification for the 
implied rebuke of his teacher. 

All through the day his mind kept going back to that 
brief interview with Mr. Crane, and the recollection 
was not always a source of pleasure. 

That evening a group of boys were assembled in his 


200 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


room, Little Pond, Jack, and Big Smith all being there, 
as well as Ward and his room-mate. The conversation 
had been almost entirely on the game with the Burrs, 
which to them at least, and most of all to Ward, was 
still a topic of great interest. 

“Well,” Jack was saying, “we’ve got this game, 
thanks to Ward, and even if we lose the return game 
in the spring we’re not so badly off as we might be. 
The valedic will help us out then too, won’t you, 
Ward?” 

“There’s no knowing who the valedic will be, Pm 
thinking. Your friend Luscious is making a pretty 
strong bid for it, and Little Pond here says his big 
brother is coming back next week. ’ ’ 

“Is that so?” said Jack eagerly, turning to the lad 
as he spoke. “ Is that so ? Why I thought he wasn’t 
coming back till after the Christmas vacation.” 

“He didn’t expect to,” replied Little Pond; “but 
it’s turned out so that he can come next week, and Pm 
expecting him next Wednesday. ’ ’ 

“That’s fine,” said Jack enthusiastically. “I tell 
you, Pond’s got the right stuff in him. Now Luscious 
has had a good influence on me, and I’ve braced up 
wonderfully under his valuable example, and if Pond 
comes back I think I shall make a try of it myself for 
the valedic. ‘ Us four, no more,’ will be in it then.” 

The boys laughed at Jack’s declaration that he was 
about to try for the honors of the class, for they all 
knew that the impulsive boy was not over fond of study, 
and that the improvement in his class work had been 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 


201 


almost entirely due to the efforts which Berry had made 
in his behalf. 

4 * I don’ t see why it is, ’ ’ said Big Smith solemnly, 

‘ ‘ that I don’ t receive more recognition in the school. 
I’ve tried to do my best, and yet I’m left out of every- 
thing. It sometimes seems to me that if a fellow is 
wild, or gets into scrapes and then reforms, there’s a 
good deal more of a time made over him than there is 
over a fellow who just plods on and never does any- 
thing bad at all. I can’ t understand it. ’ ’ 

Ward’s face flushed, for it seemed as if Big Smith 
meant to be personal. Perhaps the recent return of 
his own popularity was the more marked because of its 
very contrast with his previous record and position. 

An angry reply rose to his lips, but in a moment the 
interview with Mr. Crane flashed into his mind, and 
he bit his lips and remained silent. “ 4 Great-hearted, ’ 
‘large-minded,’ ” he thought. “I suppose Mr. Crane 
was trying to get me to stretch my soul a bit, and I’ll 
try not to be petty and small to-day, anyway. ’ * 

“ Big Smith,” said Jack solemnly, rising and moving 
his right arm up and down after the manner of a pump- 
handle as he spoke, “ there’s a great truth in what you 
say. I’ve suffered from the effects of it, lo, these 
seventeen years. I’ve often thought if I’d fallen into 
evil ways or joined in a few scrapes, that when the 
school saw, as the fellows all must see now, the mighty 
change in me, they’d give me a good deal more credit 
than they do. But they just take it all for granted, you 
see, and expect me to do well every time.” 


202 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“You can laugh all you please,” said Big Smith, 
“but it’s true. Now look at Ward. He’s been in 
more scrapes than I, for I never was in one since I 
came to Weston ; but just see how all the fellows, or 
almost all of them, are talking him up on every side. 
They never talk in that way about me, and yet I’ve 
tried to do right all the time.” 

The angry word this time almost escaped Ward’s 
lips, but before he could speak Jack quickly replied, 
and as Ward looked at Big Smith again he was glad he 
had not spoken. It was evident the big fellow was in 
“dead earnest,” as the boys phrased it, and Ward 
thought he even saw traces of moisture in his eyes. 
Surprise overcame his feeling of resentment, and he 
stopped to listen to Jack, who had resumed his pump- 
handle gesture. 

“The trouble with you, Big Smith, is that you are a 
prig. It isn’t that you don’t do wrong that makes the 
fellows feel toward you as they do. In their hearts 
there isn’ t a fellow who doesn’ t respect the chap who 
tries to do right, and they wish they were like him too. 
But you’re a regular grandmother, Big Smith. You’ve 
been a big fellow in your own town, and when you 
went away to school you thought you were doing a big 
thing. Then you come up here and the first thing you 
do you go to reaching out and patting all the rest of us 
bad little boys on our heads. You rebuke us; you 
think we’re all on the downward road because we don’t 
do just what you want us to ; and then you expect 
everybody to do for you instead of trying to be of 


A PUZZLING QUESTION 


203 


some use to the fellows. Why, from the time last 
Mountain Day, when you left others to carry the lug- 
gage and then when night came took all of Pond’s 
bedquilt to yourself, every fellow in the school thought 
you were for Big Smith first, last, and all the time. ’ ’ 

“But I was cold that night,” said Big Smith 
solemnly. 

“And what did you think of Pond? And whose 
bedquilt did you think that was? Now Pond never 
was in any scrape, and yet the fellows all take to him. 
You’re never in any scrape, either, but you’ve got to 
do more than that, let me tell you. You heard about 
the man who never said a foolish thing and never did 
a wise one, didn’t you? Well, let me tell you that a 
fellow has got to have something more than negative 
goodness to make him count in the Weston school.” 

The boys looked with wonder at Jack as they heard 
him speak. It was all so different from his usual man- 
ner that not one of them could understand him, and 
almost in consternation they turned to see how Big 
Smith was receiving the lesson. 


CHAPTER XIX 


jack’s sermon 

“ T DON’T just know that I understand what you 
1 mean, ’ ’ said Big Smith slowly. ‘ ‘ Isn’ t doing 

right the same as not doing wrong? That’s what I’ve 
been taught, that a good fellow was one who didn’t 
drink and swear and steal. ’ ’ 

“You’ve got the cart before the horse, my dis- 
tinguished friend,” replied Jack. “A fellow isn’t 
good because he doesn’t do those things, but he 
doesn’t do them because he is good. Now I know a 
place where there are more than a thousand men living 
all together. They neither drink, swear, nor steal ; they 
don’t even fight. Not one of them.” 

“That must be a fine community, Jack,” said Big 
Smith quickly. 

“Well, it isn’t. It’s one of the toughest places ‘in 
all this broad land of ours,’ to quote from Ward’s last 
speech. Not much. I don’t think you, even you, 
Big Smith, would like it there, even with all the virtues 
I have mentioned, and they’re not half of them, let 
me tell you, either. I could give you a catalogue more 
than a yard long, just like them.” 

“I don’t see, Jack. I think you must be joking. 
What’ s the place ? ’ ’ 

204 


jack’s sermon 


205 


“Never was more serious in all my life,” replied 
Jack lightly. “Now listen, and I’ll give you the name 
of the place. It’s the State prison.” 

Big Smith looked blankly at Jack for a moment, 
while all the other boys present burst into a loud laugh. 
It was not so much what Jack had said as the expres- 
sion of amazement which spread over Big Smith’s face 
as he heard the words. 

The laughter of the boys continued for several 
minutes, and at last Big Smith said slowly : “I never 
in all my life before thought of it in that way, Jack. 
Up where I live, when they speak of a good boy they 
always mean one who doesn’t do anything bad.” 

“And right they are,” said Jack, with a laugh; 
“that is, right as far as they go. The only trouble is 
they don’t go far enough. Any old pumpkin out in 
the field doesn’t do any of these things either, but 
they don’t call the pumpkin ‘good’ on that account, 
at least as far as I’ve ever observed. Did you ever go 
to a circus, Big Smith. ’ ’ 

“ I never did.” 

“ Well, that’s all right ; I’m not telling you you ought 
to. All I mean is that if you should happen to go 
some time, just to take the children, you know, of 
course, you’d probably see a lot of cages there. And 
the cages would be full of awful beasts. Wild animals, 
you know. There’ d be the hyena, he’s a very cheerful 
bird ; and there’ d be the rhinoceros, and the elephant, 
and the tiger, and the mosquito, and the lion, and all 
sorts of gr-o-w-ling, savage beasts of the field,” and 


206 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Jack’s voice became low as if he were trying to imitate 
the sounds of the animals he named. “Now, Big 
Smith, if you ever were so naughty as to take the 
children to see such sights, you’d feel perfectly safe, 
because not one of those monsters was ever known to 
devour a man, woman, or even one of the children, for 
whose sake you probably had gone. You see they’re 
held back by the bars, and they can’t do any damage, 
no matter how tempting your tender flesh might appear 
to be. But, Big Smith, honestly, you wouldn’t feel 
any warmer toward the gentle hyena, or the mild and 
smiling tiger, would you ? or think it any safer to leave 
those tender little infants you had gotten together, and 
for whose sake alone you had gone to the circus — I 
mean just to see the animals, of course — there in the 
tent, if the bars were all taken away, although not one 
of those animals had ever done any damage to any 
man ? ’ ’ 

“I — I — don’t just see the point,” said Big Smith, 
somewhat bewildered. ‘ 4 What do you mean ? ’ ’ 

“Alas ! alas ! ” said Jack in mock despair. “Well, 
what I mean is just this. You don’t trust a lion or a 
tiger in the menagerie because he hasn’t done any 
harm. So you don’t always take to a fellow just be- 
cause he’s never done anything very bad, either. He 
may be held back, he may be afraid, he may not know 
anything about the bad, and so not do it because he 
doesn’t know enough to do it. Now, Ned Butler, -who 
graduated last year, you know, or Little Puddle’s big 
brother, why either or both of those fellows just gripped 


jack’s sermon 


207 


the whole school, you see. They never were in any of 
the mean things, but there was something besides that. 
They tried not only not to do wrong, but they also tried 
to do right. Every fellow in the school knew that both 
of those boys were just doing their level best to do the 
square thing every time, as well as keep out of the mean 
things. It wasn’t half so much what they did not do 
as what they did do that counted, let me tell you. 
They had good, red blood in their veins every time, 
and the boys knew and felt it too, but it seemed just 
as if they used every ounce of muscle they had to do 
something. They weren’t thinking of the things they 
didn’t do.” 

“ 1 — I — think I’m beginning to see what you mean,” 
said Big Smith quietly. 

“I’m mighty glad you are able to see the point once 
in your life,” said Jack good-naturedly. 

“You’d better be glad,” interrupted Ward, who 
sympathized somewhat with Big Smith in his manifest 
trouble, “you’d better be glad that you were able to 
make the point plain enough to be seen for once in 
your life, Jack, as I’ve told you so many times lately.” 

The lad laughed heartily, for he was one of the few 
boys who was willing to receive as well as give the 
bantering of the school. 

Turning again to Big Smith, and noting the unusual 
seriousness of his manner he said, in a far more gentle 
tone than he had before used, “Honestly, Big Smith, 
I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You started the 
thing you know, and asked me what I thought was the 


208 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


reason you didn’t stand better with the fellows, and I 
told you just what I thought. It was none of my 
business, and I ought not to have done it. Who am I 
to preach to you? I’m one of those who do just ex- 
actly the opposite of the very things I’ve been urging 
on you, for I leave undone those things which I ought 
to have done, and do the things which I ought not to 
do. Forgive me if I’ve said what I ought not to have 
said,” and Jack, in his impulsive way, stretched forth 
his hand. 

Big Smith took it, but made no reply, and in a few 
moments slipped quietly out of the room. 

As soon as he was gone Jack began to upbraid him- 
self for the words he had spoken, and in a brief time 
he too departed. None of the boys ever knew of the 
visit he immediately made in Big Smith’s room, nor did 
they ever hear of the long conversation between the 
two boys which followed. 

It was soon evident, however, that a change of some 
kind was coming over Big Smith. Many of his ways 
were greatly modified, and his devotion to Jack Hobart 
became as marked as it was strange. 

None of the boys, however, thought very much of 
the matter, for Jack was universally popular, and no 
one could long retain a grudge against him, and to that 
fact was probably attributed the new departure in the 
case of Big Smith. 

Pond returned to the school on the following week, 
and great was the rejoicing among his friends. The 
boy had but little money, and while in his calm, quiet 


jack’s sermon 


209 


way he never concealed the fact nor hesitated to give 
it as a reason for not entering into many of the projects 
of his companions, he never obtruded it nor referred 
to his poverty as if he gloried in it. He was one of 
the most popular boys in the Weston school, thoroughly 
respected and warmly loved for his genuine manliness. 

He had continued his studies during his absence, and 
had been able to keep well up with his class, and as 
soon as he returned Ward at once perceived that Pond 
was determined to retain the laurels he had won in the 
preceding year if hard work would accomplish it. 

It soon became manifest that the struggle for the first 
place in the class lay between Ward, Pond, and Berry, 
but the three boys lost none of their regard for one 
another in the contest. 

Ward learned more easily than either of the other 
two, but he lacked the steady, dogged, even ways of 
Pond. There were occasions when he was strongly 
tempted to neglect his work, and indeed did even 
neglect it, but not for a long time. He had been taught 
a severe lesson, and with the higher impulses now in 
his heart, and the longing to carry home to his father a 
report which he was well aware would give him higher 
pleasure than anything else he could do for him, he 
held himself well to his work in the main, and was 
recognized as one of the leaders in his class. 

In the even lines of the school work there came 
many pleasant breaks. On Mountain Day the summit 
of the great hill was climbed as it had been in the pre- 
ceding year by the most of the boys of the Weston 
o 


210 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


school, and many of the experiences which have already 
been recorded were repeated. 

The party of friends, with Little Pond and Big Smith 
occasionally added, tramped over the hills in quest of 
chestnuts, and never failed to return with a goodly 
store. On the brief half-holidays, until the snow came, 
they would take their luncheons and start forth to ex- 
plore some of the beauties of the region in which 
Weston lay, and the hills would echo and re-echo with 
the sounds of healthful boyish shouts and laughter, the 
best sounds in all this world. 

Ward Hill was happy. The past seldom rose before 
him now, or if it did come for a moment and awaken 
a sharp pang, it was soon put aside as the conscious- 
ness of the efforts he was then making came to take 
its place. And Ward was working faithfully. He was 
doing so much more and so much better than ever he 
had done before, that it seemed to him as if he was 
working intensely. He had yet to learn some of the 
necessities and possibilities in that line. 

The enmity of Tim Pickard and the “Tangs” still con- 
tinued, but for the most part it was expressed in sneers 
and attempted slights rather than by any open manifes- 
tations ; but Ward felt that he could endure all that 
easily now in the knowledge he had of the regard with 
which most of the boys looked up to him since the day 
of the great game with the Burrs. And then too, he 
had the satisfaction of knowing that he was not neglect- 
ing his work, and that results were already becoming 
more and more plain. 


jack’s sermon 


21 I 


Once, it is true, his room was “stacked” again, 
when he had carelessly left the door unlocked, but he 
did not care so much for that as he did that Pond’s 
room was also upset on the same day. Coming up the 
stairs together they discovered two of the younger boys 
at work in very midst of the mischief. They adminis- 
tered a sound “seniorly” spanking, and made the little 
fellows confess that Tim Pickard had told them to do 
what they were doing. 

As soon as the chastening and some good advice had 
been given, Pond insisted upon going at once to Tim’s 
room and “having it out with him” as he expressed 
it. Nothing loth, Ward assented, and the two boys at 
once went down to Mrs. Perrins’ and found Tim by 
chance in his room. 

The presence of his visitors evidently confused the 
lad at first, but soon assuming a bold manner he listened 
to what Pond had to say. 

“We’ve come down here to tell you, Tim, that 
you’re not to set any more of the little fellows up to 
stacking our rooms again. ’ ’ 

“I haven’t stacked your rooms,” said Tim boldly. 

“I’m not talking about that,” said Pond, speaking 
in a quiet manner, frequently deceiving to those who 
were not well acquainted with him. He was seldom 
angry, but his very quietness gave the impression that 
it would not be wise to push him unduly. “I’m not 
talking about that,” repeated Pond. “All I said was 
that you were not to set any more of the little fellows 
up to such tricks as stacking our rooms. ’ ’ 


212 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Have the little imps gone and squealed? I’ll 
fix ” 

“Now look here, Tim,” said Pond, still speaking 
quietly, and his manner betrayed no excitement, 
“you know me and I know you. There isn’t any use 
in dodging this thing. Ward and I caught the little 
fellows right in the act, and we spanked them till we 
made them own up. It wasn’t their fault but ours if 
they told, and it wasn’t their fault that they were in 
such petty business, either. I don’t think they will 
be in it again.” 

“What’ll you do to stop it?” sneered Tim. “Go 
and tell the doctor, won’t you ? ” 

“I’m not making any threats,” replied Pond; “all 
I’m saying is that this has got to stop. You can’t 
afford to do it, Tim, and as for me, it costs me too 
much to come up here to have anybody rob me of 
what I came for. I haven’t any time to spend in set- 
ting up my room. I need all the time I can get to 
hold my place in the class, ’ ’ and he turned and smiled 
slightly at Ward as he spoke. “ Now you know, Tim, 
what I’ve come for, and that’s all there is to it. I’m 
after the work, and I haven’t a spark of the nonsense 
some of the fellows talk about, putting up with all sorts 
of tricks, to call them by no worse names, that any one 
may feel disposed to play on them. That’s what I 
came for, and now I’ve said all I have to say. Good- 
night, Tim.” 

Tim did not reply to the salutation as Ward and 
Pond turned and went out of the room. 


jack’s sermon 


213 


At the door they met Jack, who had just come down 
for his supper, and to him Ward related all that Pond 
had said and done. 

Jack whistled when he had heard all and said, 
“That’s what you may call bearding the lion in his 
den. Maybe it will work all right and maybe it won’t. 
They won’t bother you again till after Christmas, but 
my opinion is that you’ll have to look out then.” 

“What’ll he do? Why will he wait until after 
Christmas ? ’ ’ said Ward. 

“ Nobody knows what he’ll do ; it won’t be stacking 
your room, though, I’m thinking. I think he won’t 
dare to stir things up before that time, for he knows 
he’s on his good behavior himself ; but it’ll come some- 
how, I’m sure, for Tim’s fighting mad.” 

Jack’s prophecy, so far as nothing being done before 
Christmas, proved to be correct. Nothing occurred to 
disturb the quiet and harmony of the school. 

The little flurries of snow were soon followed by 
heavier falls, and the wintry winds began to be heard 
throughout the valley. The crests of the hills were 
the first to be covered by the snow, but soon it crept 
down the sides and over the meadows, and when at 
last the end of the term had come, the snow lay deep 
over all the landscape, one of the heaviest falls ever 
known in Weston, even the oldest inhabitants declared. 

Of Ward’s welcome home, of the good time he had, 
and the happiness which this time was his, we cannot 
write here. 

When his report came, Ward found that he was third 


214 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


in his class. He knew then that both Pond and Berry 
must be in advance of him, and he felt somewhat dis- 
appointed. The pride and rejoicing of his father over 
the improvement, however, were so great, and as Ward 
himself was aware that he had done good work, he did 
not refer to his own feelings, but he resolved none the 
less that he would try to show both Pond and Berry 
that in the coming term if they held their laurels it 
would be only by the strongest kind of effort. 

The “coming term,” however, was to be an unusual 
one even in the annals of the Weston school, but 
Ward’s heart was light, and not a shadow of the future 
at this time darkened it.,„ 

The vacation at last was ended, and Ward and Henry 
departed from Rockford in the midst of a severe snow- 
storm. The storm changed to rain before they arrived 
at the end of their journey, and that night there was a 
sharp freeze. 

In the morning, when they left their room to go to 
their breakfast, they found that the crust of the snow 
was strong enough to bear their weight, and in every 
direction they could see the boys running, sliding, slip- 
ping, falling over the smooth surface, while all the time 
shouts and laughter could be heard on every side. 


CHAPTER XX 


DOWN WEST HILL 

“ /^^OME on, Henry, let’s go over to Jack’s room,” 
said Ward as they came out of the dining 
hall together. 

The zest of the meeting with the boys was not yet 
gone and as they came into the hall or went together 
down the steps, the boisterous laughter still continued. 

But Ward was not entirely jubilant, and as he looked 
about him at his noisy companions, perhaps he was 
somewhat suspicious that all were not so happy as the 
sounds of their laughter might lead an inexperienced 
observer to believe. 

The winter term was the long, hard term of the year. 
In the fall, while each boy was aware that a long 
stretch of weeks intervened between him and the joy- 
ous Christmas time when he would again be at home, 
there were yet the re-unions after the long vacation, and 
the formation of new friendships as well as the renewal of 
the old ones ; there was the excitement of the outdoor 
athletic sports, and the long tramps over the hills and 
through the valleys, to say nothing of the Mountain 
Day, which was one of the features of school life at 
Weston. 

In the spring, in addition to the fact that the term 

215 


216 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


itself was a brief one, there was also all the joy which 
the returning summer brought, and the thought of a 
speedy return home. 

But the winter term was long and sometimes dreary. 
Storms swept over the valley, the fierce winds piled the 
heavy fall of snow into mountain-like drifts, and there 
was not very much to vary the monotony of the school 
life. It was the time when the hardest work was de- 
manded and done, and the natural consequence was 
that as the Weston boys came thronging back to the 
school after the Christmas vacation time more than one 
of them returned with hearts that were somewhat 
heavy within them. 

But all the boys had a dread of even the appearance 
of homesickness, and by every available method each 
sought to create the impression that he at least was not 
suffering from that dreaded disease. 

Just why this was so, no one could explain. Surely 
no boy had any cause to feel ashamed of his love for 
his home and his desire to look again upon the faces of 
those whom he loved and those who loved him. But 
whatever the explanation, or lack of explanation, it 
was still true that many of the boys looked forward 
with anything but pleasure to the days of the winter 
term, and yet few were willing to acknowledge their 
feelings. 

Ward Hill was no exception to the general rule at 
Weston. As he came out of the dining hall that even- 
ing and the cold, wintry air struck him full in the face, 
he lifted his eyes and looked at the snow-clad hills 


DOWN WEST HILL 


217 


which shut in the valley. The towering monarchs 
seemed to be absolutely pitiless and forlorn in the star- 
light. Snow and leafless trees, and cold and lifeless 
landscapes seemed to be all about him and even the 
laughter of the boys sounded noisy and unnatural, as 
if his boisterous companions either were striving to 
drown their thoughts by their protests, or were endeav- 
oring to force themselves into some kind of a belief 
that they really were glad to be back together in school 
again. 

He was sharing in the general depression, and in ad- 
dition to his desire to see Jack was the longing to be 
cheered, and perhaps compelled to forget the imme- 
diate pressure by the contagious and irresistible good 
nature of his friend. 

Henry gladly yielded assent and in a few moments 
they entered Jack’s room and had received his some- 
what noisy welcome. Berry also was there, and Pond 
and his brother came a little later, and in the presence 
of such friends Ward’s gloomy thoughts soon vanished. 

“ And how are all the good people at Rockford? ” 
said Jack eagerly. “That’s the best town I ever was 
in in my life. I don’t see why they need any churches 
or preachers there for my part ; a fellow has to make a 
desperate effort if he wants to do anything bad there.” 

Ward smiled at Jack’s words as he replied to his 
question. He thought he might be able to explain to 
his friend that even Rockford was not free from all 
temptations, but Jack soon broke in again. 

“If I didn’t want Pond here to come to New York 


218 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


and take charge of the church I attend just as soon as 
he’s ready to begin to preach, I’d say to him go up to 
Rockford. They are awfully good up there. ’ ’ 

4 ‘Yes, some of us ‘too ’good to be true,’ I’m 
afraid,” said Ward quietly. 

“You don’t suppose I’m going to a place where 
I’ d have nothing to do but loaf, do you ? ’ ’ protested 
Pond. “No sir ! I’m going to a. place where there’s 
work, and plenty of it too. ’ ’ 

Ward glanced quickly at Henry and noticed the 
pained expression upon his face at Pond’s innocent 
reference to the position of a preacher in Rockford. 
He was well aware of the almost passionate devotion 
with which Henry regarded his father, and indeed the 
feeling was somewhat shared by Ward himself as he 
pictured to himself even then the saintly, beautiful 
face of Dr. Boyd. 

“I don’t know about that, Pond,” he said quickly. 
“My impression is that Henry’s father doesn’t think 
he’s lying in a bed of roses with such a scapegrace as I 
am to look after. I rather think it depends upon the 
man almost as much as it does upon the place he’s in 
whether he works or not.’ ’ 

“That isn’t what I mean,” said Pond, perceiving 
at once that he had said something which might better 
have been left unsaid. “I know there’s work even in 
Rockford, and there’s a worker for the work too. I 
was only speaking for myself, and what I meant was 
that the place where there’s the most to be done is the 
one which appeals most to me.” 


DOWN WEST HILL 


219 


“Good for you, Pond,” said Jack hastily. “My 
church is the place for you. The men there think if 
they give lots of money and pay a good big salary to 
the preacher they’ve done all that’s required of them. 
But honestly I’m most afraid the missionary part was 
left out of me. I like a good time. And fellows,” he 
hastily added, “I’ve brought something back with me 
just for that very purpose. I got one and Tim Pick- 
ard’s got one too. He brought his up on the same 
train with me.” 

“What’s that you’ve got?” said Ward, voicing the 
immediate interest of all in the room. 

“I’ve the daintiest bob you ever saw. Come out in 
the hall and see it. ’ ’ 

The boys followed the eager lad, and there in the 
hall stood the long sled which Jack had brought. It 
was shod with slender steel runners, and in its narrow- 
ness appeared to be even longer than it really was. It 
was beautifully upholstered and equipped with the most 
approved steering apparatus. 

“Isn’t she a beauty?” said Jack enthusiastically. 
“ I wouldn’t dare tell you what my father paid for her. 
I just hinted that I wanted the best affair in all the 
city, and behold ! just before I started for the train, 
this bob put in an appearance. ’ ’ 

The enthusiasm of the boys was almost equal to that 
ol the sled’s owner, as they noted its good points and 
examined it critically. 

“We’ll have some fun on her,” said Jack. “She’s 
like an arrow almost. What is it we sing in chapel, 


220 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


‘Swift as an arrow cleaves the air’ ? Well, that’s what 
this bob can do. She’s a good ten feet in length, and 
I think she won’ t tarry very long on her way down 
West Hill, do you ? ” 

“ How many will she carry, Jack? ” inquired Ward. 

“All I can put on her. I can pack away ten or 
twelve, and maybe more. We’ll soon see. Come up 
on West Hill to-morrow afternoon after study hour, 
will you, fellows ? ’ ’ 

All the boys eagerly accepted the invitation, and 
on the following afternoon joined Jack and together 
dragged the long, slender bob up West Hill. 

West Hill was a long hill with several bends in the 
road and a number of Very sharp descents, between 
which were long stretches where the road ran down- 
ward, but in a gradual incline. From the place where 
the boys at last stopped, to the street on which the 
school buildings stood it was at least a mile, and they 
were all eager to see in what time the new bob could 
carry them that distance. 

The pathway was almost like ice, for the cold weather 
still continued and the recent sharp freeze had left a 
hard coating over all the snow. When at last the party 
of seven boys halted, for both Big and Little Smith 
had joined them, they were far above the valley. The 
trees had a coating of frost and glistened in the after- 
noon sunlight. The pathway was hard and firm and 
did not yield beneath their weight. The air was crisp, 
but the boys were clothed to meet that and no one 
thought of the cold. 


DOWN WEST HILL 


22 


“Get ready there ! ” shouted Jack, as he took his 
seat in front on the sled and grasped the little ropes by 
which he was to steer. He braced his feet against the 
ice to hold the sled in its position and waited for the 
boys to take their positions behind him. 

One after another took his place on the sled, care- 
fully bracing his feet and grasping the body of the boy 
in front of him tightly with both arms. Ward was to 
have the position in the rear and was to give the push 
which should start them on their long journey. 

“ All ready ? ” shouted Ward taking his place. 

“All ready ! Let her go !” shouted Jack in reply. 

Ward began to push, and as the sled began to move 
slowly gave it one more hard shove and it had started. 
Then running swiftly behind it he leaped quickly upon 
it, braced his feet and tightly grasped Henry, who was 
seated next before him. 

The sled began to move slowly at first, but in a mo- 
ment its speed increased and soon it seemed to the ex- 
cited boys as if they were almost flying over the smooth 
and slippery surface. Faster and faster sped the long 
sled and the sharp air seemed almost to cut their faces 
like a knife. 

Down the long descent the sled swept on and soon 
came to the first of the sharp falls. It seemed then al- 
most to leap from the ground and shoot through the 
air, as indeed it did for a number of feet, then struck 
the ground and swept onward with an ever-increasing 
speed. 

Ward thought of Jack’s reference to the arrow cleav- 


222 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


ing the air, and it. seemed as if that was just what the 
swift-flying sled was doing. 

On and on, swifter and swifter sped the party. 
Around one of the bends in the road they passed, and 
the boys clung more tightly to one another, for it 
seemed at first as if they would be flung from their 
places ; but Jack was doing nobly as steersman and 
held his beloved sled well to its place in the road. 
Down another of the sharp descents they passed and 
the speed was again increased. It seemed as if noth- 
ing could move more swiftly than they were sweeping 
down the long hillside. The vision of the fences by 
the roadside and of the few scattered farmhouses and 
barns was all confused and indistinct so rapidly did they 
pass. Down, down, and ever downward sped the sled, 
and the excitement of the breathless boys increased 
each moment. 

Another of the bends in the road lay before them, 
and almost before they were aware of it they were 
sweeping around the curve, and before them lay the 
last of the sharp falls in the road. 

As they turned the bend a loud warning cry burst 
from Jack’s lips, and as the frightened boys glanced 
quickly before them, they had an indistinct vision of 
another party of boys coming up the hill dragging a 
long bob behind them. The warning cry was heard 
just in time, and the startled boys only succeeded in 
swiftly leaping to one side before Jack’s sled was upon 
them. It just grazed the edge of the other sled, and 
then before any one could utter a word was yards away 


DOWN WEST HILL 


223 


down the hillside. Not one of the boys spoke, but 
their faces were white and drawn, and the peril they 
had barely escaped caused their hearts to beat wildly. 

Again the sled seemed to leap and shoot through the 
air as it came to the last fall, and swift as its motion 
had been before, it became even swifter now. The 
fences and trees seemed to fly past them. It was even 
difficult to breathe in the cold and rushing air. On 
and on swept the sled with its load, until at last the 
long road had been traversed and they approached the 
little hill which was near the village. 

Up the ascent the sled plunged on its way, then 
down the hillside on the farther side, then up again on 
its way to the last of the rises in the ground before 
they approached the school buildings. 

But the upward movement now began to tell even 
on the swiftly flying bob and its speed visibly slackened. 
Slowly and still more slowly it moved, and when at 
last it had gained the high ground on which West Hall 
stood it came to a standstill. 

With a heavy sigh the boys leaped off and stood to- 
gether facing Jack, who was holding the ropes by which 
he had steered, in his hand. 

“Whew!” said Jack enthusiastically. “That’s 
what I call coasting, fellows ! ’ ’ 

“Coasting!” said Ward. “That isn’t any name 
for it. That’s flying, that’s what it is — just flying. I 
feel as if we’d been shot through the air and didn’t 
even touch the ground. I say, Jack, I’ve got a name 
for your bob. ’ ’ 


224 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“What is it ? ’’ 

“ ‘ The Arrow.’ ‘ Swift as an arrow cleaves the air,’ 
you know. You can’t improve on that name if you 
try ten years. Call her ‘The Arrow,’ Jack.” 

“ All right,” said Jack laughingly in reply. “ ‘ The 
Arrow ’ it is then. I’ll have her all painted up in colors 
in a day or two. Come on, fellows, and we’ll try it 
again. ’ ’ 

The boys turned to follow Jack up West Hill again ; 
but no one spoke for a time, as the excitement follow- 
ing the swift ride had not yet disappeared. 

Ward was walking by Jack’s side assisting in drag- 
ging the sled, and when they were half-way up the hill- 
side they quickly called to their companions to ‘ ‘ look 
out,” and then swiftly darted to one side of the road 
drawing the long sled with them. Just before them 
they could see the other bob coming swiftly on its way, 
and as it swept past them they discovered that Tim 
Pickard was steering it. Doubtless it was his bob, and 
the party consisted of his boon companions. 

“I say, Jack,” said Ward soberly, “this is lots of 
fun, but it’s dangerous too. You don’t suppose Tim 
would leave his bob so that we might happen to strike 
it on our way down, do you ? It would be all day with 
us if he should do such a thing. ’ ’ 

“No, I don’t believe Tim would do that,” replied 
Jack lightly, although Ward thought he could see that 
his friend was troubled by the suggestion. “No, I 
don’t believe Tim would do that,” repeated Jack. 
“ He’s got the disposition to upset us, but I don’t be- 


DOWN WEST HILL 22 5 

lieve he’d do it. He thinks too much of his bob to 
run the risk of a collision.” 

Nothing more was said by either of the boys, and in 
a brief time they arrived at the summit of West Hill 
and prepared once more for the long ride. 

The party was arranged just as it had been in the 
preceding ride, and as soon as Ward saw that all the boys 
were ready, he began again to push the heavy load, 
and as the sled started, he ran lightly behind it and 
then leaped upon it in his former position. 


p 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 

GAIN the swift descent of the long hill was made, 



ii and then once more the boys climbed back to 
the starting point. 

Tim Pickard and his friends were passed each time, 
but no trouble came, the owner of the other bob either 
not caring to disturb them then, or else, as Jack sug- 
gested, he feared the damage which might come to his 
own sled from a collision. 

When at last the boys returned to their rooms, they 
were all enthusiastic over the sport of the afternoon 
and were eagerly looking forward to the following day 
when the experience might be repeated. 

Indeed it was not long before the entire school 
seemed to feel the contagion of the sport, and sleds 
and improvised bobs were to be seen every afternoon 
upon the long course of West Hill. Even the towns- 
people came to share in the coasting, and many strange 
looking sleds soon made their appearance. 

One in particular attracted much attention. It was 
made of two rude low sleds such as the farmers used to 
draw their heavy loads of wood in the winter. It was 
an immense affair, and frequently fifteen or twenty 
young men would be packed together upon it, and 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 


227 


when the rough-looking contrivance made its appear- 
ance it was sure to have every right of way, as no one 
cared to stand in its path. 

Even the ladies soon joined in the sport and West 
Hill presented a gay appearance, covered as it fre- 
quently was by the merry crowds. Some of the towns- 
people had horses to drag the heavy sleds back up the hill 
and to enable the ladies to avoid the trouble of climb- 
ing, but the Weston boys did not consider it much of 
a task to retrace their steps ; and indeed the pleasure 
was perhaps increased by the difficult ascent. 

Jack soon had the name which Ward had suggested 
painted in bright colors on his bob, and the fame and 
the speed of “The Arrow” seemed to increase daily. 

Among the coasting contrivances none seemed to be 
equal to it except the bob which Tim Pickard owned 
and which he had named “The Swallow,” perhaps 
from some fancied resemblance between its swiftness 
and the flight of that bird. 

The school had “gone mad,” as Jack phrased it, 
over the coasting on West Hill. The time between sup- 
per and the evening study hour also was given up to the 
sport, and instead of soon tirihg of it, the interest and 
excitement seemed to increase with every passing day. 

But among all the sleds and bobs none appeared to 
belong to the class of ‘ ‘ The Arrow ’ ’ and ‘ ‘ The Swal- 
low, ’ ’ and they were soon the acknowledged leaders of 
them all. The events which followed were perhaps 
only a natural outcome of that fact and a trial between 
the two soon came to be talked of among the boys. 


228 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Ward,” said Jack, one evening about two weeks 
after the beginning of the winter term, ‘ 4 Tim wants to 
have a race between his bob and mine. What do you 
think of it ? ” 

“ I didn’t think he’d condescend to race with us,” 
replied Ward, almost unconsciously assuming a partial 
ownership in “The Arrow.” Jack apparently did not 
notice that there was anything of assumption either in 
Ward’s words or manner, for while the generous- 
hearted boy had fully shared the pleasures of his bob 
among the boys of the school, his love for Ward had 
led to his being a member of every party formed. He 
declared that Ward alone knew just how to start “The 
Arrow ’ ’ aright, and that much of its success was due to 
that very fact. And Ward in his joy had not stopped 
long to consider the matter, and soon came almost to 
regard the swift-flying bob as a joint possession. 

“Condescend?” said Jack. “It’s no condescen- 
sion on his part, let me tell you, to have a race with 
‘The Arrow.’ His old tub isn’t to be mentioned 
with it. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That’ s all right ; I wasn’ t referring to the bobs, but 
to Tim’ s present feelings. ’ ’ 

“Well, I fancy Tim did have to swallow hard once 
or twice before he could bring himself up to the point 
of challenging ‘The Arrow.’ But, you see, so many 
of the fellows are interested and have talked so much 
about the two bobs that Tim probably couldn’t stand 

it any longer. So the upshot of it all is that he wants 
> > 


a race. 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 229 

“I think we can accommodate him,” said Ward. 
‘ ‘When does he want it to come off?” 

“Next Saturday afternoon’s the time he mentioned. 
I suppose we can suit ourselves about that, though. 
When do you think is the best time?” 

“Oh, that’ll .do as well as any. That is, if the 
weather holds good. How many are to be in each 
party? ” 

“We shall have you and me, of course, and then 
there’ll be Luscious, and Henry, and Big and Little 
Smith, and Puddle and his big brother. That’ll be 
eight all together.” 

‘ ‘ Why do you take the little fellows? ’ ’ 

“Oh, it’ll be fun for them,” replied Jack. “Tim’ 11 
carry the same number, eight.” 

“Yes, but his load will be heavier. Little Pond and 
Little Smith are both so light that they won’t count 
for very much, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh well, never mind that. They’ll get some fun 
out of it anyhow, and that’ll be almost as good as win- 
ning the race. But I’m not afraid, even if Tim does 
have a heavier load. I guess ‘ The Arrow ’ will cleave 
the air all right. ’ ’ 

The race was soon arranged and at once became the 
exciting topic in the school life. Three days only inter- 
vened and the boys of the rival parties were not idle. 
Daily they went up on West Hill, and Jack tried several 
new methods of steering, while Ward practised the 
“send-off,” upon which they all relied. 

Saturday dawned clear and bright, and the afternoon 


230 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


promised to be almost ideal for the race. Long before 
the time when it was to occur, the boys of the school 
took various positions along the roadside to watch the 
race, although many of them preferred the place in 
front of West Hall, which was to be the terminus, and 
there they could witness the finish and at once deter- 
mine which had won. 

Ward had suggested that the race should be “on 
time,” that is, that each bob should go over the course 
alone and that the time occupied by each should be 
carefully kept, and the merits of the bobs be deter- 
mined in that manner. There would be less danger 
by adopting that method, and he could not disguise the 
fact, in spite of his excitement, that the race was 
fraught with more or less of peril. The unanimous 
protest of all his companions, however, had served to 
do away with his suggestion, and he had said no more. 

It was arranged that the course should be gone over 
three times and that the bob which won two of the 
three races should be declared the victor. 

Much time had been spent in polishing the long, 
slender steel runners of “The Arrow,” and everything 
which was likely to add to its speed and safety was 
carefully looked to. 

At last the appointed time arrived and the eight boys 
who were to comprise “The Arrow’s” load started up 
West Hill, each grasping the long rope and assisting in 
drawing the bob after them. 

A cheer from their friends followed them as they 
started forth from West Hall, and at intervals along the 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 


231 


road they were greeted by the plaudits of the boys. 
It was evident that most of the school desired them to 
win, though Tim was not entirely lacking in sup- 
porters. 

As they drew near the hilltop, it was seen that the 
rival party was already there, and a crowd of boys 
stood about “The Swallow” admiring her strength 
and speed, and talking over her various good points. 

Many of the boys who were there to see the start, 
planned to go down the hill after the first race and be 
with those who were assembled near West Hall to wit- 
ness the finish in the succeeding races. Mr. Blake was 
to be the starter, while Mr. Crane was to be the judge 
at the end of the course, and they had left him with the 
crowd in the village. 

The excitement was now at the highest pitch. Lots 
were soon drawn for choice of sides in the road, and as 
J ack won he selected the right, although there was no 
advantage in that, and the allotment had been made 
only to insure perfect fairness for all. The bobs were 
soon in position and Ward took his stand behind 1 ‘ The 
Arrow” ready to make the start, while Ripley was 
waiting to do a similar work for ‘ ‘ The Swallow. * ’ 

The pathway was all cleared and the boys along 
the roadside were to see that the way was kept clear 
throughout the course. Ward could see the eager 
faces of those who were assembled at the starting-place 
as he glanced about him. They stood back from the 
road, but were leaning forward intent upon every move- 
ment of the rivals. 


232 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Jack and Tim had taken their positions in front, for 
each was to steer his own sled. Tim’s face betrayed 
no feeling, but as he glanced at Ripley, Ward could see 
that in spite of his apparent indifference, he felt con- 
fident of winning. Indeed, as he returned Ward’s 
glance a sneer spread over his face, which served to 
rouse his rival still more. How Ward did wish to win 
that race ! They must have it ! And the eager lad 
determined to give “ The Arrow ” such a start as she 
never before had. 

“Are you ready?” called Mr. Blake, his tall, angu- 
lar form bending in the excitement which he shared 
with the boys. “When I count three you’re to start.” 

He took his watch from his pocket and then glanced 
once more about him to see that all were ready for the 
signal to be given. 

“One! Two! Three!” 

Instantly Ward bent to his task and “ The Arrow” 
began to move before him. Harder and harder he 
pushed, and as the speed instantly increased he leaped 
lightly into his seat and tightly grasped the body of 
Big Smith who was seated directly in front of him. 
Unmindful of the frantic cheers of the boys in the 
assembly behind him he turned to look at “The Swal- 
low.” Neither side apparently had gained any advan- 
tage in the start, and now the two bobs were speeding 
onward side by side. 

The speed increased, but the two sleds still kept the 
same relative positions. On down the hillside swept 
the rivals, and soon they were almost flying through 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 


233 


the air. The cold wind made their eyes water, but as 
yet neither Jack nor Tim had for a moment withdrawn 
his attention from the task before him. Both fully 
realized the necessity of constant watchfulness and 
were resolved that not an advantage should be lost. 

Cheers arose from the boys waiting by the roadside, 
but almost before they could be heard they sounded 
far away behind them. Both sleds were well handled 
and were doing nobly. 

Around the first bend in the road they swept almost 
together, and soon the first of the steep descents was 
gained. Almost as if they were not touching the 
ground the sleds shot through the air, but the increas- 
ing swiftness apparently was equally shared by them 
both. Side by side the two sleds swept onward. The 
speed increased each moment, and as yet it was impos- 
sible to determine which was gaining the advantage. 
On and on they sped, “swifter than the wings of 
the wind. * * 

Around the next curve, then on down the next fall 
in the road, then around the next bend. More than 
half of the course had now been covered and still the 
sleds sped forward side by side. 

Before them lay the last of the steep places, and as 
in an instant they seemed to be upon it, Ward gave a 
shout as he saw “The Arrow” push slightly forward in 
advance of its rival. The advantage was very slight, 
but still it was an advantage, for he was nearly abreast 
of Tim Pickard, who was seated in front on “The 
Swallow ’ * and steering his own sled, as we know. 


234 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Before them now there lay the two little hills. The 
issue of the race would be decided by the ability to 
withstand the slackening of speed which was sure to 
come there. 

Up the first little hill both sleds went, and Ward’s 
shouts redoubled as he saw that “The Arrow” was 
forging slightly ahead. They were just about a sled 
length beyond their opponents now, and it seemed to 
him that he could almost hear the labored breathing of 
Tim Pickard who was just behind him. The lighter 
load was a very decided advantage now, Ward thought, 
in climbing the hill, and he blamed himself for having 
made any protest against the younger boys being made 
members of the party. 

As they passed down the little hill “ The Swallow” 
gained slightly, but as they began the ascent of the last 
remaining hill again the lighter weight of ‘ ‘ The Ar- 
row’ s ’ ’ load began to tell, and when at last they gained 
the summit it was once more a full length in advance. 

They could see West Hall in the distance now, and 
as the descent was begun they all knew that the last 
stretch of the course was at hand. The waiting boys 
had already obtained a glimpse of the racers and 
their shouts in the distance could be distinctly heard. 
Plainer and plainer grew the sounds, but Ward’s heart 
sank as he glanced behind him and saw that “The 
Swallow” was slowly creeping up on them. Her heav- 
ier load began to tell now as the descent was fairly en 
tered upon. Ward felt as if he must get off and push 
the bob before him. What was the trouble ? Why was 


THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW 


235 


it that “The Arrow” seemed to drag on her way? 
Slowly and yet steadily he could see that ‘ ‘ The Swal- 
low” was gaining. First Tim Pickard came alongside, 
and then one after another was directly by his side. 
On and on moved the sleds and soon ‘ ‘ The Swallow ’ ’ 
was a little in advance. 

The cheers of the waiting assembly redoubled now 
that the bobs were in plain view and the end of the 
course had been almost gained. 

Still ‘ ‘ The Swallow ’ ’ pushed ahead, and when at 
last the end had been gained she crossed the line more 
than a length in advance of her rival. 

Shouts and cheers greeted the outcome of the first 
race, even the boys who had not favored “The Swal- 
low ’ ’ shouting till they were almost beside themselves 
in their excitement. 

Ward and his companions rose from their seats, but 
they were downcast and disheartened. 

“Never mind, Ward,” said Jack lightly as they 
started again up the hill, “ ‘one swallow doesn’t make 
a summer,’ you know. They haven’t won the race 
yet. It’s the best two out of three and we’ve a good 
fighting chance left. ’ ’ 

“‘The Arrow’s’ the swifter bob,” said Ward dis- 
consolately. “There’s no doubt at all about that. 
They beat us by their heavier load. We were ahead 
up to the top of the hill, but when we started down 
that their weight put in its fine work. We’d have 
beaten them easily if we’d carried as many pounds of 
weight as they did.” 


236 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“ Never mind that,” said Jack quickly, glancing be- 
hind him as he spoke to see whether either of the 
younger boys had overheard the words. “It’s an ex- 
perience they’ll always remember, and it’s as great fun 
to see them have a good time as it is to win. Maybe 
we’ll win this time.” 

Ward made no reply, nor did he speak again before 
they had gained the summit of the hill. Many of the 
boys had left it now to go down to West Hall to wit- 
ness the finish of the race. 

The sleds were soon in readiness for the second race, 
and this time Jack’s prophecy proved to be correct, for 
‘ * The Arrow ’ ’ won by three full lengths. 

Each had now won once and the third trial would be 
the deciding one. The excitement of the spectators 
as well as of the boys engaged in the race became more 
intense now. Nearly all had gone from the summit 
when for the third time the sleds were drawn up there. 

They were quickly reversed and placed in position, 
and then at the word of Mr. Blake started swiftly down 
the long course for the third and decisive trial in the 
race. 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 

I N spite of his excitement, Ward Hill was not un- 
mindful of the danger which attended the race. 
While the long road was kept clear of vehicles and 
passing teams by the boys who were stationed at inter- 
vals along the course, yet the speed with which the 
bobs swept over the smooth surface was terrific, and 
any little mistake on the part of either Jack or Tim 
was likely to prove very serious in its consequences. 

He knew that both the boys were skillful, and their 
control of the sleds had been superb up to this time, 
and that there apparently was no cause for the fear 
which somehow came upon him when they started on 
the third and last descent of West Hill. 

In a moment, however, all his attention was absorbed 
by the excitement of the race. While not so many of 
the boys had been on the summit when they started 
this time as had been there when the other two starts 
had been made, their feelings were more intense, and 
what they lacked in numbers they more than made up 
by their shouts. Each bob had now won a race, and 
the third trial would determine which should be the ac- 
knowledged champion of the school. 

It almost seemed as if the sleds themselves shared in 

237 


238 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


the feelings of the boys. The road was in prime con- 
dition, and apparently there was nothing to prevent a 
full test of the speed of each sled. 

At any rate, it seemed to Ward, as he clung tightly 
to the body of the boy in front of him, as if the speed 
had very materially increased. And yet almost side by 
side the two bobs sped on down the hillside. 

Far away rose the shouts of the waiting boys as soon 
as they obtained a glimpse of the oncoming sleds ; but 
almost before the sounds could be heard the bobs 
swept on and passed the scattered groups, and then 
again the shouts and cheers from below would be 
heard. No one on either sled spoke, however, for 
their feelings were too strong for utterance. 

Two of the bends of the road had been passed, and 
twice had both sleds shot through the air as they came 
to the sharp descents in the road, and while the speed 
of each had instantly been increased, as yet neither 
had gained any perceptible advantage over the other. 

As they approached the third bend, however, Ward 
could see that “The Arrow” was slightly in advance. 

Tim Pickard, who was steering “The Swallow,” 
was now just abreast of Little Smith, who was seated 
in the center of the load which Jack’s bob was carry- 
ing. The advantage, however, was too slight to be a 
source of much comfort to the anxious boys, and the 
slightest mistake on Jack’s part might forfeit it all in a 
moment. 

Ward looked ahead of him and could see three boys 
standing directly in the pathway. They were all wav- 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 


239 


ing their arms and shouting together, but Ward thought 
nothing of their appearance, and was satisfied that they 
would do as all the others had done when the racers 
came nearer, and step aside to give them a free course 
down the hill. 

A shout arose from “The Arrow’s” load as the 
boys still retained their places in the road, and as the 
bobs swept swiftly forward, the three still kept their 
places till the racers were almost upon them. They 
were shouting and waving their arms all the time, but 
no one thought of that, and as they darted quickly to 
the side of the road, the sleds came almost upon them. 

“ Look out, look out ! ’ ’ suddenly Ward shouted as he 
glanced at the other sled for it seemed to him that Tim 
had changed his course and was steering directly into 
“The Arrow.” 

* ‘ Look out, look out ! ” he screamed again franti- 
cally as he saw that Tim evidently was trying to drive 
them off from the course. If one or the other did 
not instantly change there was sure to be a collision. 

All the boys on “The Arrow” looked up at Ward’s 
shout of warning, and Jack glanced backward as he 
heard the call. 

“Look out ! look out, Tim !” he screamed in his ex- 
citement, but the course of “The Arrow” instantly 
was changed. 

Just how it all occurred Ward never knew ; whether 
Jack had for a moment lost control of the sled as he 
looked backward, or the forward runners of “The 
Swallow” actually struck the bob he never could tell. 


240 


WARD HILL — THE SENIOR 


There was for a moment a dull grating sound, as if 
“The Arrow” had grated on bare ground, and all the 
boys on it were thrown slightly forward by the sudden 
checking of the speed. 

However, it instantly became apparent that Jack had 
lost control of the bob. The swift-flying sled left the 
road, started directly down the bank, and before them, 
only a few rods away, was a low, rambling stone wall 
which still appeared above the crust of the snow. 
There was a shout of alarm from the watching boys by 
the roadside, a feeling of utter despair in Ward’s heart 
as he perceived there was to be a crash of some kind. 
But before he or any of the boys could voice their 
alarm, or roll from the sled which was plunging ahead 
with no apparent slackening in its speed, there was a 
sudden shock, and the sled struck the wall, and in a 
moment Ward felt himself shooting through the air over 
the heads of his companions. 

He was only partially aware of the force with which 
he struck the hard, smooth crust at last and slid far 
ahead over its surface. He tried desperately to check 
his speed, but all of his efforts were without avail, till at 
last he came sharply against the stone wall which bor- 
dered the narrow field on its farther side. 

Even then he felt dull and stunned, and for a mo- 
ment could not move. Just where he was or how he 
came to be there was not at first apparent to him. 

In a brief time, however, he was aware of the shouts 
and cries behind him and then staggered to his feet. 
His face and hands were bleeding and his clothing was 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 


241 


torn in many places. But all that was instantly for- 
gotten as he perceived from the actions of the boys, 
who had quickly gathered at the place where the acci- 
dent had occurred, that something was wrong there. 
Stumbling, staggering forward, he made his way back, 
though it seemed to him that every bone in his body 
was aching and every step gave him pain. 

At last he reached the crowd, and as he approached, 
one of the boys noticing his appearance, turned to 
him and said quickly, “Are you hurt, Ward?” 

“No, I think not,” though even while he was speak- 
ing he was conscious of the wounds on his face and 
hands. “No, I think not much,” he repeated; 
“but some of the boys here are, I fear,” he hastily 
added. 

Before him stretched upon the snow lay the bodies of 
Henry, Big Smith, and Jack. The others of the party 
were standing about as if they were almost as dazed as 
he, and certainly their appearance was as bad as his 
own. Some had bleeding noses, some showed great 
bruises on their faces, and all had their clothing more 
or less torn by the accident. 

‘ ‘ What is it ? What is it ? ” he said hastily, as he 
pushed his way into the group and approached the three 
boys who lay stretched upon the snow. Beneath them 
some of the boys had placed their overcoats, while 
others had rolled theirs into rude pillows and placed 
them underneath the heads of the injured boys. 

‘ ‘ Are they killed ? ” he added in a low voice as he 
gazed at them. 

Q 


242 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“No, they’re not dead,” said one in the group; 
“but Jack’s got it the worst of all. He must have 
fallen under the bob, for his little finger had been al- 
most cut off. The runners must have gone over it. 
We’ve tied his hand up with handkerchiefs as best we 
could. I don’t think the other fellows are anything 
more than stunned. Here comes Mr. Blake,” he 
added, as the tall teacher came running toward them. 

But Mr. Blake was not able to do anything more 
than the boys had done, and the confusion increased. 

“Send for a doctor ! ” “Take them down on the 
sleds!” “Take the pillows out from under their 
heads ! ” “ Rub them with snow ! ’ ’ were among the 

expressions now heard on every side, but no one 
seemed to be able to take the lead and the confusion 
increased. 

“Here comes Mr. Crane!” shouted one of the 
boys, and in a moment the teacher approached the 
group. Tim’s sled had gone on down the hill, and 
when it arrived at the end of the course, great was the 
astonishment of the assembled boys that it should be 
alone. 

In response to the many questions Tim disclaimed 
all knowledge of what had become of “The Arrow,” 
simply declaring that he thought there had been an 
accident of some kind, but that he did not know just 
what it was. 

Mr. Crane had not waited to hear more, and had 
instantly pressed into service one of the horses and 
sleighs which had been halted near the place so that 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 243 

the racers might have a free course, and had started up 
West Hill. 

As he obtained a glimpse of the crowd which soon 
had assembled near the place of the accident, he had 
needed nothing more to inform him that something of 
a serious nature had occurred, and leaping lightly out, 
he left the horse in charge of one of the boys and ran 
swiftly to the crowd. 

The boys at once made way for him, and just as he 
bent over the boys Big Smith opened his eyes and 
stared wildly about him. Soon Henry too regained 
consciousness, and Mr. Crane at once proceeded to 
make an examination. Big Smith was declared to be 
all right, but with Henry it was impossible to determine 
whether his left arm had been broken or not. The 
slightest movement of it caused him intense pain, and 
Mr. Crane said : 

“ We’ll have to leave that for a surgeon to deter- 
mine. We’ll now look at this poor boy,” and turn- 
ing to Jack he began to make a further investigation. 

Jack was still unconscious, and soon it was decided 
to carry him back in the sleigh in which Mr. Crane had 
come. Ward pleaded that he might assist, but one 
look at him led the teacher to say, “You look as if you 
needed help yourself, Hill. No, I’ll let one of the 
other boys assist me. Here’s another sleigh,” he 
added, as he saw that others had driven to the place. 
“Doubtless Boyd and Smith can be taken back in 
that. ’ ’ 

The arrangements were soon completed and the 


244 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


three boys were carried back to the school. To the 
offer to carry him and the other remaining boys on the 
sleds. Ward said : “No, sir, I don’t want any more of 
that at present. I can’t speak for the others ; but for 
myself I’d rather crawl back on my hands and knees. 
Look at ‘ The Arrow ’ too, will you ? ” he added. 

1 ‘ I guess her racing days are done. ’ ’ 

“The Arrow” was indeed in apparently a worse 
plight than that of any of the boys. The collision 
with the stone wall had torn it apart. One runner 
was broken loose and the seat lay several feet away 
from the body of the sled. 

It was only about a half-mile back to the school 
buildings, and in the midst of the constantly increasing 
crowd of boys who looked upon their injured com- 
panions much as if they were heroes, the racers re- 
turned. It was a procession in striking contrast with 
that which had started out. 

Just how they made the journey Ward never knew. 
He felt sore throughout the whole extent of his body, 
and every step caused him suffering, but somehow it was 
at last accomplished, and when he went up to his room, 
Henry was already in bed and one of the other boys, 
who roomed in West Hall, was there. 

“How are you, Henry? Are you hurt much?” 
inquired Ward hastily. 

“No, I think not. It’s my arm that’s the worst. 
It may be broken. The doctor is coming soon. But 
how are you, Ward? You look all torn into pieces.” 

“Oh, I’m all right,” replied Ward hastily. “I got 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 245 

a few scratches and bumps, but some hot water and 
arnica will soon fix me all right.” 

And he proceeded immediately to carry out his own 
directions. But his heart was heavy when he thought 
of Jack and he could not entirely check the tears that 
rose in his eyes. Sore and bruised as he was he de- 
cided to go at once over to East Hall and learn how 
his friend was. 

What a good fellow Jack was, thought Ward. He 
would share anything he had with any or all who called 
upon him. And Tim Pickard ! His heart grew bitter 
and hard when he thought of Tim's dastardly trick. 
He had been the one to blame for the accident, for 
doubtless his threatened collision had been the cause 
of “The Arrow’s” leaving the road, and the dire 
events which had followed. 

Ward was a long time washing his wounds and 
bruises, and by the time he was ready to go over to 
East Hall, Doctor Leslie, the Weston physician, en- 
tered the room with the principal of the school. 

He at once began to make an examination of Henry 
and in a few minutes declared, “There are no broken 
bones. The left arm has had a bad sprain, and he’ll 
have to carry it in a sling for a while, but I’m confident 
that otherwise he’s not seriously injured and will be 
around again in a few days. ’ ’ 

“Do you think he had better go home? ” inquired 
Doctor Gray anxiously. 

“That remains to be seen,” replied the physician; 
4 ‘ but I hardly think it will be necessary. ’ ’ 


246 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

“You’d better look at Ward,” said Henry, his face 
beaming in spite of the pain he was suffering, at the 
doctor’s verdict. “He’s been hurt too.” 

“Only a few bruises and scratches,” said Ward 
hastily. “But, doctor, have you seen Jack?” 

Doctor Leslie’s face clouded as he said : “ Yes, I have 
just come from his room.” 

“How is he? How is he?” said Ward eagerly. 
“Is he badly hurt? I want to go over there right 
away. ’ ’ 

“You can’t see him, if you do go,” said the physi- 
cian quietly. “I’ve left orders with Mr. Crane for no 
one to be admitted into his room. He’s to keep the 
boys in the hall quiet too, and I’ve telegraphed for his 
mother. ’ ’ 

“Telegraphed for his mother?” said Ward aghast. 
“Is it as bad as that? O doctor, is he going to 
die ? ” 

“ I trust not, but he is seriously injured. I’ve been 
compelled to amputate one of his fingers.” 

Ward was almost overcome by the kind-hearted phy- 
sician’s words and for a moment he could not speak. 

“I think, Hill,” said Doctor Gray sympathetically, 
“that you had better be in bed yourself. Doctor Leslie, 
isn’t there something you can do for him? ” 

Doctor Leslie left a few directions and then departed 
with the principal to visit the other boys who had been 
on the unfortunate “Arrow.” Much against Ward’s 
will he was ordered to remain in his room that night 
and have his supper brought to him. 


THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW 247 

The following morning, although he felt stiff and 
sore, he resolutely went down to the dining hall for his 
breakfast. Henry was in fairly good spirits also, but 
he was not to leave his room that day. The reports of 
Jack were not very encouraging and a gloom rested 
over all the school when the boys assembled in the 
chapel. The accident of the preceding day was the 
one topic of conversation and the subdued manners 
of all the boys showed how deeply they had been 
touched. 

At the close of the service Doctor Gray said : “ It is 
not necessary for me to refer to the distressing accident 
which occurred yesterday. We all may rejoice that its 
effects were no worse, bad as they were. In view of 
the results, which might easily have been fatal, you will 
all readily understand why it is that from this time for- 
ward the use of so-called ‘ bobs ’ is strictly prohibited, 
and no coasting will be allowed except by special per- 
mission of the house teachers. I bespeak your sympa- 
thy for those who are confined to their rooms and 
trust you will do all in your power to aid those who are 
caring for them. You may now pass to your class- 
rooms. ’ 9 

As the boys filed out of the chapel, many were the 
words of sympathy heard for Jack Hobart. The pop- 
ular light-hearted boy would have rejoiced could he 
have heard the many expressions of interest and good- 
will, but at that time he cared for none of those things. 
Rolling and tossing upon his bed in his room in East 
Hall, he uttered no sounds except an occasional moan, 


248 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


and even the presence of his mother, who had arrived 
that morning, passed unrecognized by the suffering 
boy. 

Ward was passing to the Latin room and glanced up 
at the windows in Jack’s room. How he did long to 
go there and do something to aid his friend ! Never 
before he thought had Jack seemed so dear to him. 
What would life in the W eston school be without him ? 
He almost groaned aloud at the suggestion. 

He was in a measure recalled from his sadness by 
Little Pond who rushed up to him and said : ‘ ‘Ward, I 
just heard something.” 

“What is it? " said Ward, only slightly heeding the 
boy’s eager words. 

“I heard that some ashes had been sprinkled on the 
road where the accident occurred. ’ ’ 

“What? ” said Ward, interested in a moment. 

He stopped and for several minutes conversed with 
his little friend and when he turned to enter the class- 
room, there was an expression upon his face which had 
never been seen there before. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE INVESTIGATION 

A S soon as the recitations were finished that morn- 
ing, Ward sought out Little Pond and as they 
walked together to the dining hall, he said : 

‘ ‘ What did you mean by what you said about ashes 
having been sprinkled on the hill yesterday ? ’ ’ 

“Brown told me,” replied Little Pond. “Brown 
said he overheard Tim and Ripley talking together this 
morning before chapel. He wasn’t trying to listen you 
know, but they take their meals at the same place, 
and as they came out of the house he heard Ripley 
say something about ashes and then Tim say ‘Yes,’ 
and that ‘somebody must go up there right away.’ 
Then they suddenly stopped short as they looked be- 
hind them and saw Brown so near them. Brown said 
they looked guilty too, and as they knew he was a good 
friend to Jack, they probably were afraid he had over- 
heard them.” 

“What did Brown do then?” 

“Oh, he said that it flashed into his mind in an in- 
stant just what they’d been up to. He thinks that 
Tim had arranged with these fellows who stuck to the 
road yesterday, you remember, there by the last of 
those steep places till we were almost on them. Brown 

249 


250 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


believes that they had sprinkled ashes over the path, 
or rather over one of the paths, and that they held their 
places as they did to drive 1 The Arrow ’ right on to it. 
Then he thinks too that Tim steered in toward us a bit 
so as to drive us farther and make sure that we’d be 
held back.” 

“The rascal,” muttered Ward angrily. 

“You don’t really think Tim Pickard intended to 
force us out of the road, do you, Ward?” inquired 
Little Pond. ‘ ‘ I think all he wanted — that is, if 
Brown’s right — was to send us on to the ashes, so that 
we’d be held back and he’d get a chance to gain 
enough to let him keep the lead on the way down the 
hill. I can’t believe he’d do anything so bad as to 
drive us into the wall. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Tim Pickard’s all gentleness! He wouldn’t 
harm any one ! He’d never take a fellow out in a 
baby carriage and jostle him around over the rough 
ground, not he ! He wouldn’ t stack a room. He 
wouldn’t do anything that isn’t just the proper thing 
to do ! Oh no, Tim Pickard’s too good for this world, 
I mean, of course, the Weston world, you know. For 
my part, I wish he was taken out of it too. Weston 
would be a very decent sort of a place without him. ’ ’ 

Ward spoke bitterly for his heart was hot against Tim 
Pickard and the “Tangs.” Not that he believed that 
even Tim would deliberately plan to run the boys into 
such danger as the load “The Arrow” carried had in- 
curred, but he was well aware of his bitter feeling against 
him, and to an extent against Jack as well, and also of 


THE INVESTIGATION 25 I 

his desire for “The Swallow” to win the race, and that 
he would stop at nothing to carry his point. 

However, he said nothing more to Little Pond, but 
as soon as he had finished his dinner, he hastened 
over to East Hall and had a long conversation with 
Brown, the result of which was that Brown and Baxter, 
another of the East Hall boys, soon after dinner 
started up West Hill to make some investigations near 
the place where the accident had occurred. 

Doctor Leslie came out into the hall as Ward departed 
and the troubled lad delayed for a moment to learn of 
Jack’s condition. 

“He’s better, decidedly better,” said the kind- 
hearted physician. * 4 1 think he’ s going to pull 
through all right if we have no setbacks. It was a 
great shaking up you boys had. ’ ’ 

“It certainly was for Jack and Henry,” replied 
Ward. “The rest of us got a few bruises and 
scratches, but we don’t mind such little things.” 

“Well, I understand that a physician’s services are 
not likely to be required in any similar cases very soon. 
I hear the principal has forbidden the use of bobs any 
more. ’ ’ 

“Yes, but our sled’s all broken up, so we couldn’t 
use it if we wanted to.” 

“And that makes Doctor Gray’s prohibition more 
easily borne, does it?” said Doctor Leslie with a 
smile. 

Ward made no response as he started toward West 
Hall. On his way Mr. Blake overtook him and as 


252 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


they walked on together, the teacher said: “Well, 
Hill, I hear that Hobart is likely to be about again 
sopn. That was a very careless piece of work . 9 * 

“Careless? I don’t understand what you mean,” 
replied Ward angrily. 

“Why, Timothy Pickard tells me that you were try- 
ing to cut across his path and get ahead of him in the 
race. That was hardly fair I think, and it ended just 
as all tricks are sure to end. I’m sure honesty is the 
best policy, even in a race between bobs. ’ ’ 

“ Did Pickard tell you that? ” 

“Yes; I had quite an extended conversation with 
him this morning. Timothy has improved greatly 
since he returned to school this year, as you know, 
Hill. I confess I was somewhat dubious as to the advis- 
ability of receiving him back into the school, but Doctor 
Gray plainly understood him better than any of us did. 
There is a certain frankness about Timothy Pickard 
that I now greatly admire. He has had many conver- 
sations with me this year, and I am beginning to feel 
proud of him. There must be something about the 
Weston air which is highly conducive to manliness. 
And, Hill, while I am speaking, let me say that I 
should rejoice greatly if you too were disposed to man- 
ifest a little more friendly disposition toward your 
teachers. You must bear in mind that we are here for 
the sole purpose of aiding you, and yet you apparently 
are not eager to receive it.” 

If Ward had not been so angry, he would have felt 
inclined to laugh. It was a new departure for Mr. 


THE INVESTIGATION 


253 


Blake to assume the role of a helper among the boys. 
Indeed, at times Ward had felt so keenly the imposi- 
tions of the boys upon him that he had been many 
times tempted to take his part. The tall, awkward, un- 
gainly teacher had never been a favorite with any of 
them. Of his scholarship no one had any doubt, but 
apparently he was lacking in the appreciation of boy 
nature, and even then Ward recalled the many pranks 
which the various classes had played upon him. Even 
Doctor Gray’s words in the preceding year, when he 
had almost begged of Ward and Henry to exert their 
influence to see that Mr. Blake’s pathway was not 
made so rough, came back to him now. 

And here was Mr. Blake posing as a friend. Ward 
knew that in his heart the teacher desired to be popu- 
lar in the school, but his desire had been so apparent 
as to cheapen his very efforts in that direction. 

As for himself, Ward had never felt drawn to him 
and in his heart he did not respect him. He had done 
his work in his classes, but never had he felt the slight- 
est inclination to go to him as he had done so many 
times to Mr. Crane. 

And yet now he recalled the fact that he had heard 
and even noticed that Tim was disposed to be very 
friendly with the awkward teacher of mathematics. 
Just what he had in mind by such a course of action, 
Ward could not determine, but he was satisfied that 
Tim, to whom at the present time he was not disposed 
to impute any worthy act or motive, must have some 
deep-laid plans in mind. 


254 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Ward’s silence was not understood by Mr. Blake, 
and as they entered West Hall, the teacher said : “I 
am glad to see that you have been impressed by what 
I have said, Hill. You have shown an inclination to 
do better in your studies this term than you did last, 
but I trust you will also conform to the spirit as well as 
to the letter of the Weston rules and life. 

Ward said “ Thank you” somewhat gruffly, and 
then hastened up the stairway to his room. Henry 
was there when he entered, and he at once related to 
him the outcome of his conversation with Brown, and 
also told him of the expedition of Brown and Baxter 
to West Hill. 

As he went on to relate the conversation with Mr. 
Blake, even the staid and sober Henry could not re- 
press the smile which came at the thought of the new 
air which the teacher had assumed, and with Ward he 
agreed that Tim must have some deeper motive in his 
mind than was now apparent in cultivating the friend- 
ship of Mr. Blake. 

It had been decided that Henry was not to go home. 
While his arm pained him intensely, and he would be 
compelled to carry it for some time in a sling, the ex- 
pense of a journey home and the loss of lessons com- 
bined to render his stay in the school desirable, and all 
that afternoon Ward studied steadily with him in get- 
ting out their work for the following day. 

After supper that night Brown and Baxter came over 
to Ward’s room to report the result of their investiga- 
tions at West Hill. It became evident at once by the 


THE INVESTIGATION 


255 


expression upon their faces that they had something of 
interest to relate, and after closing and locking the 
door to prevent interruptions, Ward turned to them 
and said : “Well, let’s have it, fellows. What did you 
find on the hill? ” 

“We had a funny kind of an experience,” said 
Brown. “We got permission from Mr. Crane to be 
excused for a part of the study hour, so we started out 
right after dinner. We didn’t want any of the fellows 
to see us, so we didn’t go together till we got down by 
the bridge. We met there as we agreed upon and then 
started up the hill. Well, sir, whom do you suppose 
we saw when we got most up to the place where the 
accident occurred ? ’ ’ 

“I don’t know,” said Ward. “Maybe it was Tim 
Pickard. ’ ’ 

“ No, Tim wouldn’t be there, you can rest your soul 
on that. He never gets his fingers scorched as long as 
there’s some one else to be had to pull his chestnuts 
out of the fire for him. It was Ripley.” 

“Was he alone ? ” inquired Ward eagerly. 

“We couldn’t see any one else, though we both sus- 
pected some one might not be very far away, didn’t we, 
Baxter?” 

“Go on, go on,” said Ward. “What was Ripley 
doing there ? ’ ’ 

“Well, when we first saw him he was right in the 
road. Before I knew it, Baxter had called out to him 
and you never in your life saw a fellow so scared as 
Ripley seemed to be. He looked up, for he was on 


256 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

his knees there in the road right where ‘ The Arrow ’ 
left it, you see, and when he saw us coming he just 
jumped over the fence and made a bee line across lots 
for home. Oh, it was great fun, let me tell you. We 
called and called to him, but every time we shouted he 
just let out another length and the way he slipped over 
the crust then was a caution. I don’t believe ‘The 
Arrow ’ could have stood a ghost of a show with him. 
He never once stopped or looked behind him, and it 
wasn’t but a few minutes before he was away down the 
hill, and pretty soon we could see him in the valley. 
But even then he never stopped to look back. My 
opinion is that he hasn’t stopped yet. From the way 
he was going he made me think of the wandering Jew 
and that he never would stop anywhere, only I don’t 
believe the wandering Jew ever could make such time 
as Ripley did. He was in dead earnest too, let me tell 
you. ’ ’ 

“Well, what then?” said Henry. “You didn’t 
follow him?” 

“No; after we recovered from our astonishment, for 
we’d never seen Ripley in a hurry before, you see, we 
put straight on up the hill. Pretty quickly we came to 
the place where the accident happened and then we 
began to make our investigations. We didn’t have 
any trouble in finding the place, for the crust was all 
broken in and the holes that Big Smith made where 
he placed his tiny ‘ footies ’ remain even unto this day. 
My impression is that they’ll find some hollows in the 
ground up there too in the spring when the snow is 


THE INVESTIGATION 257 

gone. * Every time his foot comes down, the heel of 
his shoe makes a hole in the ground, ’ you know. ’ * 

“Oh, bother Big Smith’s heels!” said Ward quickly. 
“ He isn’t here to defend himself, and it isn’t fair to go 
for a fellow behind his back. What we want is your 
story. ’ ’ 

“That’s what I’m giving you. Well, we went right 
at the road next, to see if we could find any of those 
ashes we’d heard so much about.” 

“You didn’t have any difficulty in finding what you 
were after, did you ? ’ ’ said Ward. 

“Difficulty? Well, I should say we did. We 
searched up . the road and then searched down the 
road, but not an ash could we find, sir, not even a 
little piece of one. ’ ’ 

“Well, what was Ripley doing up there then? 
What made him run when you came ? ’ ’ 

“That’s the very question we put to ourselves, my 
patient little lad, but the question was a good deal 
more easily asked than answered, let me tell you. If 
it hadn’t been for my friend Baxter here we’d never 
have had it solved for us at all. But, you see, Baxter’s 
a descendant of the great Baxter, and he knows a thing 
or two.” 

“Who was the great Baxter?” said Henry solemnly. 
“I never heard of him.” 

“Oh, he wrote a book, or took a rest, or did some- 
thing; I don’t know just what. But this Baxter took 
no rest. He made a great discovery. Just when I 
was about to declare the expedition a failure and 


258 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


was going to organize a retreat a la Xenophon, my 
sweet-spirited friend dropped upon his knees. I 
was somewhat astonished, you may believe, to behold 
my comrade in that attitude, and was about to make 
a few simple inquiries as to the purpose in view, for I 
heartily approved of his conduct, I have no need of 
assuring you. But let Baxter tell his own story. He’ll 
do it justice, a good deal better than I can with my 
poor stammering tongue, you see. ’ ’ 

“ Baxter, will you tell us what you did ? ” said Ward. 
“The trip must have turned Brown’s head.” 

“Why, all there was of it, I saw that some of the 
snow had been dug out from the bank and it seemed 
to me it had been thrown on the road,” said Baxter. 
“It was trodden down, but it showed that some one 
had stamped on it. Of course that made me suspicious 
and I just got down on my knees and began to dig with 
my hands. I didn’ t have to go very far before I found 
what we were after. Ashes had been scattered in the 
path, and then some one had gone up and covered it 
all over with snow, and had tried to pack it down so 
that it wouldn’ t show. ’ ’ 

“And that was what Ripley was doing?” 

“Precisely. Precisely,” said Brown. “Your mas- 
sive brain has solved the riddle.” 

* ‘ The rascals, ’ ’ said Henry angrily. ‘ ‘ Where do 

you suppose they got the ashes?” 

‘ ‘ Probably Timothy Pickard, Esquire, looked well to 
that,” said Brown; “and he had planned to fix you 
fellows on your third trip down. ’ ’ 


THE INVESTIGATION 


259 


“But if we’d struck the ashes fairly, it might have 
sent us flying in every direction, at the speed we were 
going,” said Henry. “It was a dangerous as well as a 
cowardly trick.” 

“Precisely so,” responded Brown; “but you were 
saved from flying all abroad by the sled taking only one 
direction, and somehow you boys seemed to be in- 
clined to follow it too. ’ ’ 

“I think it ought to be reported to Doctor Gray,” 
said Henry indignantly. “I’m no tell-tale, but such 
a thing as that might almost have been murder. ’ ’ 

“And how will you prove that Tim did it? Or that 
any one did it, for the matter of that ? As for Tim, 
he didn’t do it, you don’t need to be told that, I’m 
thinking,” said Brown. 

“And then there’s Jack,” said Ward. “He’s suf- 
fered the most, but I don’t think he’d want the thing 
reported. I don’t believe we’d better do anything be- 
fore he is well enough to hear all about it. Doctor 
Leslie thinks he’ll get along all right now.” 

“All except his little finger,” said Brown. “But I 
think Ward’s right. We don’t want to report it before 
Jack knows all about it. We can keep our eyes open 
though, and may be we’ll find out who did it. Some- 
body’s rapping, Ward.” 

“I know it,” replied Ward. “Let him keep on, 
we don’t want him in here, whoever he is.” 

Nevertheless he went to the door, but he almost 
stumbled backward when he opened it, and beheld Tim 
Pickard and Ripley standing before him. 


260 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


He was too astonished to speak, but the new-comers 
did not wait for an invitation to enter the room, for 
they at once came in, and Ward not knowing what to 
make of the visit and the visitors, quietly closed the 
door and again locked it. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 

F OR a few moments no one in the room spoke, and 
as the boys glanced at one another the embar- 
rassment under which they were laboring seemed to in- 
crease. What could have induced Tim and Ripley to 
visit him, Ward could not conceive. The intensity with 
which he disliked both increased even as he looked 
steadily at them and waited for them to speak ; for 
Ward had quickly decided that they must declare their 
errand without any questioning on his part. 

What an evil face Tim had, Ward thought. And 
yet his own face flushed slightly at the recollection that 
only a few months before this time he and Tim had 
stood much in the same position, had engaged in the 
same pranks, and had reaped the same result at the end 
of the year. But Tim apparently had sunk even 
lower, and while Ward was fully conscious of his own 
failures and falls, yet there was a little feeling of rejoic- 
ing that he certainly was now trying to do better. And 
his own heart rebelled against Tim and all his ways. 
Surely there was a wide difference between them now, 
for while they might have started from almost the same 
plane both had been moving steadily onward, but drift- 
ing apart, with the consequence that there was now a 

261 


262 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


distance between them greater than either could con- 
ceive. 

And too, in that moment of awkward silence, Ward 
thought of how their positions had changed since the 
beginning of the present school year. Then Tim had 
seemed to be a leading force in the school. The boys, 
even those whose hearts were repelled by him, still out- 
wardly acknowledged his position, and his word had 
been law with them in many ways. His wealth, his 
fine physique, his ability as a base-ball player and a 
general athlete, had all their weight, as Ward himself 
was fully aware. And indeed, had he not himself felt 
the influence of all these things in the previous year, 
and been among those whom Tim had easily induced 
to follow him in his evil ways ? 

Now, however, it was clearly evident to Ward that to 
a large extent Tim had lost in influence in the school, 
while he himself had risen in the estimation of his fel- 
lows. What had wrought the change ? Was it the 
winning of the game from the Burrs? Doubtless that 
had not been without its influence, but it was something 
more than that, and although Ward Hill could not find a 
name for the cause of the change, and perhaps was not 
fully aware of the change itself, it was still due far more 
to something within him than to anything he had done 
which could be seen by his fellows. 

The struggle had been a difficult one, and what the 
sensitive, highly-strung lad had suffered no one but 
himself could know. And perhaps the battle was not 
entirely won even now, nor would it ever be until life 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 


263 


itself should be ended, for no matter how high a person 
may rise there still lies the unattained before him. The 
successful merchant is not willing to rest on the laurels 
won ; the statesman finds difficulties confronting him 
even when he has gained the coveted position, and 
even the schoolboy is not satisfied with the victories 
he has achieved, but is looking out upon fields all un- 
trodden by him. And all this is because life is at work. 
When a man ceases to struggle he ceases to live. Dead 
men are never hungry. They rest from their labors, 
but the living rest for their labors. 

The main difference between Ward Hill and Tim 
Pickard lay not in the positions they then occupied, 
widely apart as these at the time seemed to be, but 
rather in the direction in which each boy was moving. 
Tim was slipping and drifting, and his direction was 
downward. Ward was struggling and striving, falling 
too many times in spite of all his endeavors, but the 
direction in which he was moving was after all steadily 
upward. If their relative positions were so far apart 
now, what would they be at the end of the journey? 

Not all of these thoughts had come to Ward in the 
awkward silence which had followed the unexpected 
entrance of Tim and Ripley, but a dim suggestion of 
some of them had made itself felt in the heart of the 
puzzled lad. 

In a moment, however, all his better impulses were 
swept away as he thought of the troubles Tim had 
brought upon them. The “stacking” of his room, 
and all the petty annoyances he had suffered at his 


264 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


hands in the earlier part of the year were as nothing 
now in contrast with the condition of Jack and Henry, 
and even his own body was not without its witnesses in 
the shape of bruises and sores. 

When he thought of Jack, Ward’s anger quickly re- 
turned, and a harsh and bitter taunt arose almost upon 
his lips, but by a great effort he restrained himself. 
After all, who was he to taunt Tim with his shortcom- 
ings? Possibly Tim might not be entirely without 
flings to give him in return. No, silence was the better 
part' now, and he need not stoop because Tim had 
fallen so low. 

Tim was the first to speak. Assuming an air of in- 
difference and bravado, and looking boldly about the 
room he said : “Well, we might as well have it out at 
the beginning as at any time, I suppose. We’ve come 
over to see what you intend to do about it.” 

“Do about what, Tim?” said Ward. “Of what 
are you talking ? ’ ’ 

Tim laughed noisily, as he replied. “That’ll do to 
tell the doctor, but it won’t go here. You know as 
well as I do what we’ve come over here for.” 

“You’ll have to explain yourself,” said Ward coldly. 

“All right then, if you must have it ; it’s the acci- 
dent. We came over to see about it. You might as 
well speak it right out now as any time, and it may save 
a heap of trouble. ’ ’ 

“I suppose by ‘the accident’ you mean the ashes 
you had sprinkled on the road on West Hill, and your 
trying to crowd ‘ The Arrow ’ upon them,” said Ward. 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 


265 


“ Now look here, fellows,” said Tim with an air of 
assumed indifference, “it’s all very well for you to talk 
about my steering into you. No one can ever say that I 
did that purposely. You can’ t hold two bobs going as 
swiftly as ours wer^ right to a chalk line. It’s simply 
impossible. You happened to have the lower side, 
that’s all there was about it, anyway, and when ‘ The 
Swallow’ veered a little from her course, why you 
thought we were coming straight for you. But even 
then you didn’t have to leave the track, and you 
wouldn’t have done it, only Speck lost his head. He 
looked behind him and, like Lot’s wife, he had to 
suffer the consequences of his own mistake, and that’s 
all there was to it.’* 

As none of the boys made any reply, Tim hastily 
continued. “And it’s all true what I was saying about 
it’s not being necessary for you to leave the track, even 
if we had gone out of our course a bit. We know it’s 
so, because some of us have been up and examined 
the place again.” 

‘ ‘ Is that what Ripley was running down the hill so 
for ? ” inquired Brown quietly. 

Ripley’s face flushed as he said quickly : “I wasn’t 
running away. If any of you fellows think you can go 
down West Hill across lots at a walk when the crust is 
as hard and slippery as it is now, why just try it, that’s 
all I’ve got to say, and you’ll sing a different tune. I 
couldn’t stop and I couldn’t turn around. I wasn’t 
running away. What was there to run from, I’d like 
to know ? ’ ’ 


266 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“Til tell you what you were running from, Ripley, 
if you want to know,” said Brown. 

‘ ‘ What was it ? ” 

‘ ‘ Ashes. ’ * 

Ripley’s face could not entirely conceal his alarm as 
he heard Brown’s words, but he only laughed lightly 
by way of reply. 

“Yes, sir,” said Brown. “We found out all about 
it. We dug over the snow you had thrown on the road 
and then tried to tramp down so that it wouldn’t show. 
We know all about that, my fleet-footed friend.” 

“No one can say that either of us put any ashes on 
the road,” said Tim boldly. “We didn’t do it, we 
didn’ t have anything to do with it — if any ashes were 
scattered there, which, for my part, I very much 
doubt. ’ ’ ^ 

“No one would ever accuse you of doing it,” said 
Ward hotly. “You never yet had the manliness to 
stand up and have a decent share in the mean tricks 
you set the other boys up to. Oh, no, you probably 
didn’t carry the ashes up the hill. No one would ever 
think of you as doing that. You’d rather have some 
one else do all your dirty work, and then you’ll 
crawl out when the pinch comes.” 

“Well, there’s one thing I never did, anyway,” re- 
plied Tim slowly, although his eyes betrayed the anger 
which Ward’s words had aroused. “I never went 
back on my friends by the ‘ I am holier than thou ’ 
dodge. I never stooped to pose as a pious fraud after 
I’d been guilty of some things I could mention. Not 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 


267 


much ! If ever I went over to Dorrfield and had a 
supper at another fellow’s expense and got drunk, I 
never whined and lied out of it, nor told of the other 
fellows, anyway. If I ever stole any examination 
questions, I never denied it. If I flunked when it 
came to the end of the year, I never bootlicked the 
teachers and tried the ‘good little boy’ dodge. Now 
suppose I did know that ashes were to be scattered on 
the path? What could I do about it, I’d like to know? 
If some of the fellows couldn’t bear the thought of 
Jack Hobart, with such a crowd of bootlicks as he had 
on his bob, coming in ahead of ‘The Swallow,’ why 
whose fault was it, I’d like to know? I couldn’t help 
it, could I? I’ve got enough to answer for myself, 
without taking on my shoulders every fellow that is 
despised by the school. ’ ’ 

The anger which Ward felt when Tim first began to 
speak soon gave way to shame and mortification as the 
brutal lad went on. All his thrusts went home, and 
Ward could hardly speak when Tim stopped. All his 
former disgrace came back upon him, and he felt as if 
every boy in the room must be regarding him as Tim 
pretended to himself. 

But Henry, who felt deeply for his room-mate, with 
flashing eyes quickly came to his assistance. Rising 
from the chair in which he had been seated and stand- 
ing directly in front of Tim, he said: “Look here, 
Tim Pickard, you’ll not gain anything by raking up old 
scores, or trying to get us off on the track of last year’s 
work, whether it’s true or false what you say. You 


268 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


know as well as I do that some of these things are not 
true ; but I don’t care anything about them, one way 
or the other. And you can’ t scare us in any such way, 
either. Now look here, Tim Pickard ! do you see that 
arm of mine ? I’ve got to carry it in a sling for weeks, 
and why? Just because of your sneaking trick. Jack 
Hobart’s lost a finger and no one knows how long he’ll 
be in bed, or whether he’ll ever leave it alive or not, 
for that matter. Now what was the cause of it? An- 
swer me, will you? Where did all these fellows get 
their bumps and bruises, and how does it happen that 
‘ The Arrow ’ is smashed into pieces ? Can you tell me 
that? You want to know what we’re going to do 
about it, do you? Well, I could tell you mighty 
quick what I’d do if it was left to me. I’d go straight to 
Doctor Gray and lay the whole thing before him. We’d 
arranged for a square race with you, you know that. 
And I don’t care whether you carried the ashes up 
there yourself or had some of your sneaking ‘ Tangs ’ do 
the work for you ; it’s all one to me. I don’t think 
the fellow who would be guilty of such a mean, con- 
temptible trick as that is fit to be in such a school as 
this. I haven’t a bit of fear of being called a tell- 
tale. I’d think I was doing the very best that could be 
done. Yes, sir, if I could have my way I’d even get 
up a petition to the doctor to have you put out of 
the school. When you set the little fellows up to 
stacking rooms, I thought that was pretty small business 
for a senior to be engaged in, though I didn’t think it 
was worth noticing ; but when you come to do things 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 


269 


that endanger our lives, it’s another matter entirely, 
and I don’t believe in mincing matters, either. If 
you’d settle down and behave yourself, there isn’t a 
fellow in the Weston school that would do a thing 
against you ; but it’s time you put a stop to some of the 
things you’re doing, and if you won’t do it, then I 
claim the fellows themselves ought to do it for you. ’ ’ 

Henry ceased, and for a moment all the boys looked 
at him in astonishment. He was usually such a quiet 
fellow that the outburst seemed to them all the more 
remarkable. Even Tim apparently had been affected 
by Henry’s righteous indignation ; but in a moment he 
recovered himself and said : 

“That’s just what we came over for. Then we are 
to understand, are we, that you intend to report the 
matter to the teachers ? ’ ’ 

“ No, Tim,” said Ward, who now had somewhat re- 
covered from his mortification. “No, Tim, we don’t 
say we shall do that. We talked it all over and made 
up our minds that it wouldn’t be quite fair to Jack to 
do that. He’s suffered the most and he ought to have 
the most to say about what shall be done. We sha’n’t 
do anything till he is better and can say what he 
wants. ’ ’ 

“Jack Hobart never will squeal, if you leave it to 
him ; but it won’t be left to him, I’m thinking. Some 
of these pious frauds will not be able to keep still and 
wait for him. Well, Ripley,” he continued, rising as 
he spoke and turning to his companion, “we’ll have to 
face the music, I suppose. If we’re in for it we might 


270 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


as well get what we can out of it. We’ll make the old 
school jingle in the next few days. If we’ve got to 
leave, we’ll at least leave these highly respectable young 
gentlemen something to remember us by,” and both 
Tim and Ripley abruptly departed. 

It was nearly time for the study bell to be rung be- 
fore the assembly in Ward’s room broke up. They sat 
and talked over the accident and the exciting conversa- 
tion with Tim, but no one could conjecture what course 
he would follow. That Tim would carry out his threat, 
however, they all were agreed, and each boy felt fully 
persuaded that some of Tim Pickard’s doings would be 
heard of within the next few days. 

As Ward followed the departing boys out into the 
hall he saw ‘ ‘ Professor Mike ’ ’ near the door. The 
good-natured Irishman at once approached him and 
said : 

“ And how is the young gintleman over in the other 
hall ? I hear as how he’ s in a bad way. ’ ’ 

“He’s better now, Mike, and we hope he’ll be out 
again soon.” 

“Indade and Oi’m glad to hear that. But there’s 
one thing Oi’m thinkin’, and that is, that none of yez 
will be after tryin’ yer bobby slide in Weston again.” 

“I hardly think we shall, Mike. It isn’t just safe, 
and Doctor Gray has forbidden it too. ’ ’ 

“Indade and Oi’m after knowin’ that already. 
That’s what came up at the last meetin’ of the teach- 
ers. Oi’m nixt to the principal, ye know, and Oi had 
to be there.” 


UNEXPECTED VISITORS 2J\ 

“Yes, I know,” replied Ward, smiling as in duty 
bound at the antiquated joke. 

“But there’s anither reason,” said Mike, “why it 
isn’t safe to be coastin’ in Weston.” 

“ What’s that, Mike ? ” 

“ It’s the wind. It blows here so that great guns 
are niver to be mintioned. It’ll just swape a slid off 
from the ground. Look here, will yez ? ’ ’ and Mike 
thoughtfully stroked his smoothly shaven face as he 
spoke. “Whin I first came up to Weston I had the 
finest growth of whiskers ye iver would be after layin’ yer 
two eyes on. Now jist look at me, will yez? Me face 
is as smooth as the handle of me broom, what Oi’m 
holdin’ in me two hands.” 

“What made it smooth, Mike ? ” inquired Ward. 

“The wind, sorr. The wind jist blowed ’em all off 
me face, ivery bit of ’em.” 

“Good-night, Mike,” and Ward laughed as he left 
the Irishman standing in the hall and entered his 
room. 

His thoughts, however, were not of the loss of 
Mike’s whiskers, but of the possible deeds of Tim 
Pickard, which the lad had prophesied would be soon 


seen. 


CHAPTER XXV 


AN ALARM 

J ACK HOBART’S recovery was rapid. The fear 
which Doctor Leslie had first felt that there might 
be some internal injuries was soon dispelled, and 
though the shock to Jack’s system had been severe, 
his sturdy frame soon asserted itself, and very soon he 
was pronounced out of all danger. 

The loss of his finger, however, was something for 
which there was no help, and his left hand was destined 
to be maimed all through his life as a result of the 
accident on West Hill. 

It was a happy day in Ward’s life when he was for 
the first time permitted to enter the room and visit his 
friend. He tried to conceal his feelings when he saw 
him propped up in bed with pillows, but the smile he 
had come to know so well was still to be seen on Jack’s 
face, and the welcome he received did his heart good. 
He took his seat by the side of the bed and eagerly 
returned the pressure of the hand which Jack stretched 
forth to grasp his own. 

“This is my mother, Ward,” said Jack; and Ward 
turned to greet the woman of whom he had heard so 
much that he felt already as if she were a familiar 
friend. 


272 


AN ALARM 


273 


As he arose to greet Mrs. Hobart and looked into 
her face he understood at once the cause for all of 
Jack’s enthusiastic devotion to her. Her face was one 
which if once seen was never forgotten, and her air and 
gentle manners at once proclaimed her to be the lady 
her son had always boasted her to be. 

‘‘I feel as if I knew you already,” said Mrs. Hobart 
cordially. “Your name is a familiar one in our home. 
Any one who is a friend of my boy can claim a large 
place in my heart too, I can assure you,” and as she 
spoke she bent over the bed and stroked the hair of 
her son. 

“I guess mothers are alike the world over,” said 
Jack smilingly. “I can tell you it’s great fun to have 
one with you up here in Weston, especially in the 
winter term.” 

“I don’t believe you took the best way to get her 
up here, though,” said Ward. 

“ Oh, it’s worth a little finger every time,” protested 
Jack smilingly. 

His reference to his loss led Ward to describe what 
they had found upon the road on West Hill, and he 
also reported the conversation with Tim and what 
Henry desired to do. 

Jack listened thoughtfully, and when Ward finished 
he said : “No, Ward. I shouldn’t want you to report 
the matter to Doctor Gray. Even if Tim did scatter 
the ashes, or have them scattered, I shouldn’t want 
it done. Two wrongs don’t make a right, and I’m not 
sure that I wouldn’t rather be in my place than Tim’s, 
s 


274 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


now. What’s the loss of a little finger, after all? 
And besides I’ve got half of it left, for it’s only taken 
off at the second joint. It may be all the handier, for 
it’ll help to hold down my examination papers when 
I’m writing, you see.” 

It seemed so natural to hear Jack speaking in his 
light-hearted manner again, that Ward was as much 
touched by that as he was by his magnanimity in refus- 
ing to have the matter reported to Doctor Gray. 

“There’s only one thing to be said,” interrupted 
Mrs. Hobart, “and that is that such action might pre- 
vent this Timothy Pickard from harming any one else. 
For my part, I think he’s done quite enough in maim- 
ing my boy for life.” 

“You don’t understand, mother,” said Jack quietly. 
“If you did, you wouldn’t want me to do it, either. 
I’m sure you wouldn’t.” 

“It’s nothing I care to urge,” said Mrs. Hobart, 
“and doubtless I do not look upon it in the same light 
in which you do. But what I can’t understand is, why 
Doctor Gray should permit such a boy to remain in the 
school. ’ ’ 

“ Doctor Gray doesn’t know about all these things,” 
replied Jack. “ He only sees the boys on dress parade. 
There’s a side of school life no teacher ever knows, 
or rather seldom knows, and when he does find it 
out, he gently as a policeman invites the fellow to 
‘move on.’ Now there’s Mr. Blake, for example. 
He doesn’t know half as much about boys as he does 
about the man in the moon, but he’s well up on books, 


AN ALARM 


275 


and whenever the principal comes into his room the fel- 
lows are as quiet as mice, so he never thinks of what 
they’re up to as soon as he goes out.” 

‘‘It isn’t that way with Mr. Crane,” said Ward 
quickly. 

“Right you are, Ward,” said Jack; “but then he’s 
one of a thousand. He knows boys as well as books, 
and the fellows know him too. They don’ t try any of 
their tricks in his room. Not much ! And the boys 
like him all the better for it. In fact, I believe every 
school likes a teacher better that pulls them right up 
short. ’ ’ 

“Certainly I like Mr. Crane very much,” remarked 
Mrs. Hobart. ‘ ‘ He has been very kind to me and to 
my boy since I came.” 

“Tim’s been very good to Mr. Blake, of late,” said 
Ward. “But he declares he’s going to stir things up.” 
And then he went on to repeat Tim’s threatening 
words in his room. 

“Oh well, then you’ll hear from Tim, if he said, 
that,” replied Jack; “and I shouldn’t be surprised if 
Mr. Blake was the first one to suffer too. I’m afraid 
of the Greeks even when they are offering gifts. Isn’t 
that correct, Ward? I don’t know that I can quote 
Virgil, but it seems to me he said something like 
that. ’ ’ 

“I think you’ll soon be out,” laughed Ward as he 
arose to depart. “ If I should tell the fellows that I 
left Jack quoting Virgil, they’d all be scared. They’d 
think you were out of your head. I’ve got to go over 


276 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


to Mr. Blake’s recitation now. Good-bye, Jack; I 
can’t tell you how good it is to see you so much 
better. ’ ’ 

“Come again soon, Ward,” called Jack; “and tell 
some of the other fellows to come too. ’ ’ 

“Not just yet,” interrupted his mother. “In a 
few days they may come, but for a day or two I think 
we’ll limit your callers to Ward Hill.” 

As Ward walked slowly over to Mr. Blake’s room, he 
little dreamed how soon Jack’s prophecy concerning 
Tim would be fulfilled. As it was, his thoughts were 
divided between Jack and the lesson before him. 

As he entered the room he saw at once from the ex- 
pression upon the faces of Tim and Ripley that some- 
thing unusual was stirring. The boys had been as- 
signed seats according to the order of their names 
alphabetically, and as Ward and Jack had therefore 
been seated next to each other, so, also, had Tim and 
Ripley chairs side by side. 

Ward was so familiar with the ways of both of them, 
that when he entered the room and found them both 
there and both apparently busied with their books, he 
was at once suspicious. Usually they came straggling 
into the room at the last moment, and the remarkable 
change could not be without some good reason. 

Mr. Blake now entered the room and took his seat 
at the desk. The confusion subsided somewhat at his 
approach, but still it was all very different from the 
quiet, orderly appearance the class always presented in 
Mr. Crane’s room. 


AN ALARM 


2 77 


“ We’ll begin the recitation, if you please, young 
gentlemen,” said Mr. Blake as he took his record 
book. ‘ ‘ I should be pleased if there were less confu- 
sion in the room,” he added, glancing up over his 
books as he spoke. 

The confusion apparently did not decrease, but Mr. 
Blake was sufficiently pleased to go on with the work. 

“Will Pickard, Smith, Hill, Pond, Ripley, and 
Brown go to the board ? * 9 

Mr. Blake always spoke as if he were requesting a 
favor, seldom as if the work was something to be ex- 
pected of the boys. 

As the lads whose names he had called walked to 
the blackboard, Mr. Blake assigned to each some work, 
and then began to call upon other members of the 
class to recite. 

Ward was working steadily, and as he glanced at 
Tim he saw that he too, apparently, was busy with his 
task. His suspicions of his classmate began to abate, 
and he thought he must have been mistaken in suppos- 
ing Tim had been plotting mischief of some kind. For 
fifteen minutes Ward remained at the blackboard, and 
then with his back to his work, he turned and faced the 
room. 

The recitation was progressing with unusual quiet- 
ness. Boy after boy had been called upon to recite, 
and thus far there had been no disorder of any kind. 
Tim was still working, although Ward had noticed that 
frequently he had cast a sidelong glance at the clock 
on the wall behind Mr. Blake’s desk, but he thought 


278 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


nothing more of that than that Tim was eager for the 
time to pass. 

He glanced again at the room. The long, ungainly 
teacher wa,s leaning back in his chair, and with partially 
closed eyelids was listening to one of the boys who was 
reciting at the time. No one apparently was interested, 
and an air of indifference to the work appeared on 
every side, in marked contrast, Ward thought, with 
what might be seen any day in Mr. Crane’s room. 

Suddenly Mr. Blake sat upright and every boy in the 
room leaned forward from his chair. From the open 
space under the teacher’s desk came the rapid, noisy, 
grating sounds of an alarm clock which some one had 
placed there. 

“Bur-r-r-r-r ! ” rang out the noisy little clock, and 
in an instant the room was in an uproar. The boys 
were laughing and the work was instantly forgotten. 

Mr. Blake quickly bent under the desk and drew 
forth the cause of the disturbance ; but as he grasped 
it in his hands and tried to stop the ‘alarm,’ his efforts 
only served to make the sound somewhat intermittent 
instead of regular. The little timepiece apparently was 
determined to be heard, and above the sounds of the 
uproar and confusion in the room, it rang on and on 
until at last it ran down and became still. 

“Some one has been kind enough to warn us that 
our hour is passing rapidly, ’ ’ said Mr. Blake striving to 
appear calm and turn the matter off pleasantly. “I 
trust, young gentlemen, you will attend to the warning, 
and will give the more earnest heed to the work which 


AN ALARM 


279 


must be completed before the hour is passed. Pickard, 
will you kindly begin your demonstration ? Order, 
young gentlemen ! Order ! ” he added sharply, as he 
stood and faced the room. 

The “order” was not at once forthcoming, but 
without waiting for his words to be carried out, Mr. 
Blake turned to Tim and indicated that he was to pro- 
ceed. 

Ward thought he detected a sly glance between Rip- 
ley and Tim as the latter took the pointer and acted as 
if he were about to comply with the teacher’s request. 

“H’m!” began Tim, “ I don’t know but I’ve made 
a mistake, Mr. Blake. I’m not just sure that this is 
right. But it seems to me ” 

“ Bur-r-r-r-r-r ! ” rang out another clock which had 
been placed beneath the chair of one of the boys in 
the corner of the room. 

“Oh, Mr. Blake, I’m so frightened!” exclaimed 
the boy with well-feigned alarm as he leaped out of his 
chair and stood in the center of the room, facing the 
class. 

The scene of confusion was repeated in a moment, 
and despite all the efforts of the teacher, who was now 
thoroughly angry, to quell it, it continued until at last 
the clock ran down. 

It seemed to Ward that he never had heard an alarm 
ring for so long a time. Tim was gazing soberly about 
the room as if he were not quite able to comprehend 
what it all meant ; but Ward was positive that he could 
readily explain it all, if he so desired. 


280 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


At last a measure of order was restored and the 
recitation was resumed. 

‘ ‘ Pickard, ’ ’ said Mr. Blake, 4 ‘ you may resume your 
demonstration where you left off. * * 

“Didn’t I finish, Mr. Blake?” said Tim soberly. 
“I thought I was done, so I erased my figure,” and 
he pointed as he spoke to the space he had cleared on 
the blackboard. “Of course I’ll repeat the work if 
you desire.” 

“Do so! Do so!” said Mr. Blake, “and while 
you are making your drawing, Hill may give us his 
demonstration, if he pleases.” 

Ward took the long pointer from Tim’s hands as the 
latter handed it to him and with a grin turned to draw 
his figure once more. 

“I am to prove,” began Ward, “that the square 
formed on the hy ” 

“ Burr-r-r-r-r-r-r ! ” rang out again from another 
corner of the room, and as a loud laugh arose from the 
boys, Ward turned quickly and faced the room. 

The boys were all laughing boisterously, and Mr. 
Blake, who was standing with his hands leaning on the 
desk before him, was almost the picture of despair. 
He was trying desperately to make himself heard above 
the din, but no one heeded him. 

“This is too much, young gentlemen,” called the 
teacher. “This is altogether too much ! ” 

Ward was decidedly of the same opinion himself, but 
in spite of his indignation at the boys and his sympathy 
with the troubled teacher, he was compelled to laugh. 


AN ALARM 


28l 


The sight was ludicrous. Mr. Blake was vainly striv- 
ing to restore order and the boys were standing in front 
of their chairs and all facing the corner from which the 
sounds were coming, and acting as if they were fright- 
ened by the unexpected noise. 

It seemed to Ward as if these alarm clocks rang 
longer than any he had ever known, seemingly having 
been made for the purpose ; but at last the whirr of 
this one became less frequent and then died away and 
the teacher could make himself heard once more. 

‘ ‘ This is too much, young gentlemen, ’ ’ began Mr. 
Blake again ; i ‘ this is altogether too much. I did not 
expect such treatment as this from the senior class. I 
shall report ” 

“ Burr-r-r-r-r-r ! ” sounded again from another part 
of the room, and again the uproar followed. 

This time Ward laughed aloud, for he was unable to 
restrain himself. 

Mr. Blake saw his merriment, and as the alarm ran 
down he turned to Ward and said : “I should judge, 
Hill, from your actions that you are highly pleased 
over this disgraceful scene. I’m going to ask you here 
in the presence of all the class whether you had any- 
thing to do with this. Answer me, sir ! ” 

“I did not,” replied Ward indignantly. 

Apparently his manner served to increase Mr. Blake’ s 
anger, for the teacher said : ‘ ‘ Then I am confident you 
know who placed these clocks here. Who did, Hill ? ’ ’ 

Ward made no reply and Mr. Blake repeated his 
question. 


282 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“ I don’t know who did it, Mr. Blake,” said Ward 
at last, ‘ ‘ although I may have my suspicions ; but I 
don’ t know who did it. ’ ’ 

“Whom do you consider to be the guilty ones?” 
persisted the teacher. 

“I cannot give you my suspicions,” said Ward very 
quietly. 

There was a silence in the room now, and every face 
was eagerly turned toward Ward. 

“Very well,” said Mr. Blake, “ I shall know what 
action to take. And now, young gentlemen,”’ he 
added, turning to the class, ‘ ‘ may I request you all to 
look under your chairs and see whether any more of 
these alarm clocks are concealed there ? ’ ’ 

In an instant every boy was out of his chair and on 
his knees ostentatiously searching under his chair for 
clocks. The scene was even more ludicrous than the 
preceding ones, but Ward felt no disposition to laugh. 
He was too angry for that. 

Soon the boys arose, and it was found that a number 
had discovered clocks. As they held them forth, Mr. 
Blake requested the finders to place them on his desk. 
But no sooner had they obeyed than one of the clocks 
began to go off. This was followed by another and an- 
other, and then Mr. Blake shouted : 

‘ ‘ The class is dismissed ! The class is dismissed ! 
Go out, all of you. ’ ’ 

And the noisy, thoughtless, laughing boys filed out ; 
but even when they were out on the campus the sound 
of the alarm clocks could still be heard. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


A DISCUSSION 



k HE seniors remained in groups upon the snow- 


X covered campus long after the sounds of the 
alarm clocks had ceased. Mr. Blake came out from 
the room and, without glancing toward the boys, started 
quickly up the street which led to the home of Doctor 


Gray. 


“ You’re in for it now, Ward,” said one of the boys 
who was standing near him. “ You’ll have an invita- 
tion from the principal before night. Sorry for you, 
Ward. ’ ’ 

Ward made no reply, and tried desperately to keep 
up an appearance of indifference, but his heart was 
filled with misgivings. What would Doctor Gray 
think ? Surely he would not believe that he had been 
the one to arrange for the trick which had been played 
upon Mr. Blake. And yet there was his record of the 
past year, and perhaps Doctor Gray would not believe 
that he had really changed in anything but his class 
work, after all. 

Ward was troubled, but none of the boys appeared 
to notice this. They all were laughing over the scene 
they had just witnessed, and in high glee were relating 
the story of it to any of the passers-by who were at- 


283 


284 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


tracted by the sight of the noisy groups. Perhaps 
there were few of them who did not regret the occur- 
rence, but it all had been so ludicrous, and the help- 
lessness of Mr. Blake had seemed so irresistibly droll, 
that with the natural thoughtlessness of boys they did 
not think of the loss of the work, or of what the feel- 
ings of the troubled teacher must be. 

But the merriment was all gone from Ward Hill’s 
heart. He was satisfied that Tim Pickard could ex- 
plain it all if he chose, and his anger at him increased 
each moment. Why had Tim ever been permitted to 
return to the school? If Tim and Ripley were not 
there, Ward thought it would be so much more easy for 
him to do right. Now he felt as if he were likely to be 
charged with the blame which rightly belonged to Tim, 
and his heart rebelled. 

Ward had yet to learn that such experiences are not 
confined to the school, and that you cannot master evil 
by expelling the actors. 

Perhaps if the lad had not been so excited, and the 
memory of that past year of failure had not so persist- 
ently clung to him, he would not have been so sadly 
troubled now, for a sober thought would have convinced 
him that he had little to fear ; but he had been, and 
was now, so desirous of doing better that his very 
anxiety made him somewhat nervous and fearful, and 
mole-hills rose like mountains before him. 

“ There comes Mr. Crane,” said one of the boys, 
and in a moment the groups dispersed and the laugh- 
ing seniors started for their rooms. 


A DISCUSSION 


285 


Ward however did not go. The sight of Mr. Crane 
at once suggested a way out of his troubles, and he 
followed the teacher to his room in East Hall. 

“ If you can spare me two or three minutes, I should 
like to talk with you, Mr. Crane,” said Ward. “I’m 
afraid I’m in trouble again.” 

“I trust it’s nothing serious,” said Mr. Crane 
lightly, as he closed the door and invited Ward to be 
seated. 

“It isn’t anything I’ve done, but something I may 
be charged with doing,” replied Ward. 

Then he proceeded to give a detailed account of 
all that had occurred in Mr. Blake’s room that morn- 
ing, of course omitting all names. 

Mr. Crane’s face became clouded as he listened, and 
when at last Ward’s story was ended, he was silent for 
a moment. When he spoke he arose and walked back 
and forth in the room, and once he stopped and placed 
his hand gently on the shoulder of the troubled boy. 

“You had nothing to do with it, Hill, I’m satisfied 
of that, so you may let your mind rest easy so far as 
that is concerned. But the matter itself is a serious 
one, and so far as I am concerned I have not the slight- 
est spark of sympathy with it. It was a disgrace to the 
entire school, and the guilty ones will of course be 
severely dealt with. What any one can find to enjoy 
in such a prank, I cannot conceive. As you know, I 
am always heartily in sympathy with anything in the 
school life which is legitimate and clean, but such a 
trick as that is neither. 


286 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“ And you believe me when I say I didn’t have any- 
thing to do with it ? ” said Ward eagerly. 

“ Believe you ? Of course I believe you. I know 
you too well to think for a moment that you were in 
any way concerned in it. The only mistake you made 
was in volunteering the information that you had a sus- 
picion. It is more than a suspicion that you have, 
however, I perceive ; but I shall not ask you to inform 
me who the guilty ones are. I never yet have asked 
one boy to inform on another, for I respect the code 
of honor the boys have, although personally I have not 
very much sympathy with it. The point that troubles 
me is that I have seen a spirit of mischief at work in 
certain quarters for some time and have been fearful of 
an outbreak, for this is the time of the year when they 
are most likely to occur. If the boys had known all 
that I know about Mr. Blake, I hardly think they would 
have done as they have ; but, somehow, mercy seems 
to be a quality entirely left out of the average boy’s 
make-up. Just why it should be so I cannot explain, 
but so it is, and we have to take even boys as we find 
them. You may set your heart at rest, however, rfill, 
so far as your being charged with any complicity in the 
affair. I shall see to that myself.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Crane,” said Ward, as he arose 
to depart. 

His heart was far lighter as he walked rapidly across the 
campus to his room. At times, the scene again arose 
before him, and he could see the hopeless despair of 
Mr. Blake as clock after clock rang out its alarm and 


A DISCUSSION 


287 


the confusion in the room increased. Why was it that 
the boys were always orderly and quiet in Mr. Crane’s 
room and never even appeared to have an inclination 
to make a disturbance there, and in Mr. Blake’s 
room there was constant trouble ? Both teachers were 
equally desirous of doing good work and of having 
good work done for them. Why was it then that the 
boys always looked up to the one, but considered the 
other as always a legitimate mark for their pranks ? 

Ward could find no satisfactory solution for the prob- 
lem, nor has it been fully solved in the great world out- 
side the walls of the Weston school. What is it that 
makes success ? Why does one man rise and another 
fall ? Why does one succeed in a field in which his 
predecessor had failed ? Is success determined by the 
man or his surroundings ? Do the times in which men 
live make the men, or do the men make the times ? 

Ward thought of Doctor Gray’s words about the dis- 
cipline of study, and of school life all being designed 
for a successful meeting of the problems of life. 
Surely, thought Ward, he needed a good preparation. 
Even in Weston not always had he met his temptations 
and conquered his difficulties as he might have done. 
The present year had witnessed a decided change for 
the better, and as Ward ran up the stairs of West Hall, 
he resolved to give himself to his work as he had never 
done before. And his heart was warm too, because of 
the expressions of confidence Mr. Crane had just given 
him. Surely, if any man in all the world could inspire 
a boy, Mr. Crane must be the one. 


288 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


As Ward burst into his room he stopped a moment 
as he saw that several of the boys were there. 

‘ * Hello, Ward, ’ ’ called Berry. * ‘ Been over to answer 
the doctor’s summons yet?” 

“ No,” replied Ward. “ I’m not going either. I’ve 
got a mens conscia recti, you know. ’ ’ 

“No, I didn’t know it,” and Berry laughed. “I’m 
glad to hear it, though. I say, Ward, would you mind 
going down to Mr. Blake’s room and inquiring what 
time it is? ” 

The boys all laughed and Ward said: “I can’t 
help laughing when I think of those clocks and their 
alarms. ’ ’ 

“You’re sort of ‘alarmed’ so to speak,” interrupted 
Berry soberly. 

“Luscious, don’t you know there are limits even to 
the longsuffering of the best man that ever lived? No 
man shall be allowed to go out of this room alive who 
has been guilty of making as vile a pun as that. It’s 
bad enough to have your room stacked, without having 
to put up with such wit as that. You’ll have to be 
careful, Luscious. The only thing that holds back my 
laughter and keeps my buttons all on is the thought 
that you’re not fully responsible. You just can’t help 
it, I fancy.” 

“I’ll never do it again, Ward ; never. My only ex- 
cuse is that I’m a poor lonely exile, banished from my 
room and Jack.” 

“Well, Luscious, see that it doesn’t happen again, 
then ! Henry, you put a warning up on the wall, will 


A DISCUSSION 


289 


you ? Say that he who shall be guilty of punning — no, 
don’t put it in that way, for that thing of Berry’s wasn’t 
a pun, it was only a punlet — say that any one who ever 
dares to attempt such a thing within these sacred pre- 
cincts shall die the death. But, fellows, seriously, I was 
about to remark, when Luscious made his feeble at- 
tempt, that I couldn’t help laughing this morning in 
Mr. Blake’s room.” 

Ward’s solemn manner caused the boys to break out 
in a fresh shout, and he waited a moment for them to 
become still. 

“It’s a mighty serious piece of business for Mr. 
Blake, though,” continued Ward. “ I happen to know 
that he isn’ t very strong in his position. I never liked 
him, I can’t deny that, but he’s got a mother and sister 
to support, and if he loses his place here, no one knows 
what’ll become of them, or of him either.” 

“Why doesn’t he make the boys behave, then?” 
said Big Smith. “ I would if I was in his place.” 

“You’ll have to tell him how,” said Brown. “He 
doesn’ t grasp the idea. ’ ’ 

“He never asked me,” replied Big Smith, looking 
around in astonishment as the boys broke into shrieks 
of laughter. ‘ ‘ Have I said anything funny ? ” he 
added, turning to Ward. 

“Not a bit funny, only a trifle punny,” interrupted 
Berry. 

A groan arose from the boys at Berry’s words, and 
there were cries of “Put him out! Kill him, Ward! 
What have we ever done to make us suffer this? ” 

T 


290 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“I’ll tell you fellows what we ought to do,” said 
Henry. “We all know Mr. Blake knows a lot, and he 
can teach too, if he’s given half a chance. Dr. Gray 
thinks he’ll make a valuable man for the school if he 
can only get some kind of a grip in a year or two. 
Now how would it do for us to have a class meeting 
and vote to stand by Mr. Blake as long as we’re in the 
school ? ’ ’ 

‘ * Capital ! capital ! What a massive brain you have, 
Henry, ’ ’ said Brown. ‘ ‘ And we had better send word 
to other schools too, that the senior class at Weston 
having had compassion upon one of its teachers, who 
couldn’t control the fellows, had finally relieved him 
of the burden and decided to do the controlling them- 
selves. ’ ’ 

“I’m not joking,” said Henry. 

“No need to inform us of that,” said Berry; “you 
couldn’t if you tried.” 

“Not if you call those things of yours jokes,” re- 
torted Henry. “But I’m in dead earnest now and 
mean just what I say. We know that the fellows who 
fixed those clocks will be sent home, every one of them ; 
but what I’m afraid of is that Mr. Blake will lose his 
position too, for Doctor Gray isn’t the man to put up 
with any nonsense. And I think we could help if we’d 
take a hand as a class. ’ ’ 

“ What do you suppose those clocks cost Timothy? ” 
said Big Smith. 

“They’ll cost him his place in the Weston school, 
for one thing,” said Berry. “Tim wouldn’t mind the 


A DISCUSSION 


291 


price he had to pay for them. A dozen clocks wouldn’ t 
pull much on his pocketbook, but he won’t like the bill 
of another kind that comes in a little later. ’ ’ 

“What do you think will be done with those clocks 
now? ” said Big Smith. 

“They’ll be given to worthy and deserving boys, 
who have been born of poor but honest pari-ents, and 
who haven’t missed a lesson since they came to Wes- 
ton. Would you like to have one of those clocks, Big 
Smith ? ’ ’ said Berry. 

4 ‘ I have no clock, ’ ’ replied Big Smith in his most 
solemn tones. 

“Now’s your chance, then,” said Berry. “You 
want to ‘strike’ soon, or they’ll be ‘alarmed’ and 
‘go off.’ ” 

‘ ‘ Oh-h-h-h ! ’ ’ groaned the boys in unison. 

“Luscious Berry,” said Ward, “be silent or you 
shall die ! ’ ’ 

“I’d like to know why?” pleaded Berry. “Here 
you are getting off that awful pun on my name, and 
there isn’t a word said, nor a gun fired. Then, when 
I am driven almost to desperation and try to defend 
myself, you’re all against me. Even a poor down- 
trodden worm will turn, and even a ‘ berry ’ turns 
black. ’ ’ 

“Oh-h-h-h! There it is again. Is there no rest, 
Ward? No rest for the weary soul? If this thing 
keeps up much longer I shall perspire,” said Brown. 

“I’ll stop,” said Berry quickly. “Nothing would 
be so dangerous for my friend as to start the perspira- 


292 WARD HILL — THE SENIOR 

tion on him. Why, do you know the other day I went 
over to his room and I was almost scared out of my 
seven senses. I actually thought Brown was going to 
do some work. I rescued him just in time.” 

“Yes,” said Brown, who was notoriously low in his 
class standing, “and that day I barely escaped making 
a recitation. It was a close call, I can tell you. I shall 
never cease to be grateful to Luscious for his kindly 
intervention.” 

“Come, fellows,” said Henry impatiently; “you 
don’t tell me what you think of my scheme for a class 
meeting and voting to stand up for Mr. Blake. ’ ’ 

“I think it’s a good scheme,” said Berry earnestly, 
“if you don’t think it will hurt him more than it will 
help him. It looks a little to me as if it were a con- 
fession of his weakness; that’s the only thing I’m 
afraid of.” 

“ He’s got it in him to be a fine teacher, I think,” 
said Ward. “I don’t like all the things he’s said to 
me, but I don’t hold any grudge, for I’ve given him 
too much ground to stand on, I’m afraid. For one, 
I’m with Henry in his scheme, but perhaps it would be 
a good thing to ask Mr. Crane what he thought. We 
don’t want to do anything to place Mr. Blake in a false 
position. ’ ’ 

Big Smith, however, was the only one of the boys to 
side with Ward in his desire to consult Mr. Crane, and 
after considerable discussion it was finally decided to 
call a meeting of the class to take some action concern- 
ing their future work in Mr. Blake’s room. 


A DISCUSSION 


293 


As the boys arose to depart, Brown said: “The 
skating is fine on the river. They say the rains and 
thaws have filled it so full that it has overflowed its 
banks, and this last freeze has made the ice as smooth 
as glass. Bring your skates and come on down this 
afternoon. It will be a good way to kill time, you 
know, for a half-holiday in the winter isn’t the most 
hilarious thing abroad.” 

His proposal was eagerly agreed to, and after dinner 
the boys swung their skates over their shoulders and 
started for the “river,” as the little stream which 
flowed along by the borders of Weston was called by 
the inhabitants. 

As Ward stooped to put on his skates he noticed that 
Tim Pickard and Ripley were already there, and appar- 
ently were free from all anxiety. He could not under- 
stand their actions, but without stopping long to try to 
account for their doings, he adjusted his skates and 
then sped swiftly away over the frozen surface of the 
stream. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 
HE little river which flowed through Weston on 



1 its way to join the far more pretentious body of 
water about twenty miles farther down the valley, in 
summer was a narrow stream but with a current that 
provided ample power to turn the wheels in the mills 
which at frequent intervals stood upon its banks. 

Down the steep hillsides came rushing and tumbling 
the many little mountain brooks whose combined 
waters made up the river ; but even after they were 
united, much of the apparently wild impulse still re- 
mained and the stream went rushing onward as if it 
were eager to leave the lowlands behind it and either 
find some place of rest, or a region more congenial to 
its boisterous nature. 

At times, the bed of the river became still more nar- 
row, and within its limitations the current became 
much swifter ; and then again it would enlarge and 
spread over many acres where the waters would be, so 
far as appearances went, almost as calm and unruffled 
as the surface of some quiet inland pond. 

One of these narrow places was familiarly known as 
“The Rock,” from the fact that one bank was formed 
by an immense granite boulder which the drift period 


294 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 295 

had borne there in the ages gone and which lifted its 
storm-beaten surface several feet above the water and 
extended back many yards from the river. 

In one place, about the center of the rock, an 
ancient cedar tree had grown, finding a foothold for 
its gnarled and twisted roots among the cracks and 
fissures. Storms had swept over the lonely tree for no 
one knew how many years ; the winter winds had 
beaten against it until it had become decidedly one- 
sided and leaned continually toward the rock away from 
the direction in which the prevailing winds blew, and 
as if it were almost seeking for aid from its rugged and 
immovable companion. 

For years it had been a standing question among the 
Weston boys whether the rock was trying to hold the 
tree up, or the tree was desperately striving to hold the 
rock down. But generations of schoolboys had passed 
by the venerable tree on their holiday tramps, and 
their sons had come up to Weston, and traveled along 
the paths their fathers had trod ; but the question was 
still unanswered. 

The venerable cedar and the hard and weather- 
beaten granite were still locked in an unbroken em- 
brace, and which was the holder and which the held 
no man could determine. 

In the winter time the river became a much larger 
stream. The melting snows on the hillside added their 
volume to the contributions of the little brooks, and 
the occasional rains and thaws increased the number of 
streams which could not penetrate beneath the frozen 


296 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


ground, and by natural laws were all made to increase 
the volume of water in the little river. 

Preceding the time when our boys went down to the 
river to spend their Wednesday half-holiday in skating 
there had been an unusual fall of snow, and this had 
been followed by a heavy rain, which also in turn had 
been followed by a sharp freeze. As a natural conse- 
quence the ice which had been formed over the river 
was smooth and clear, and extended far up over what 
were the ordinary banks in the summer time. 

The day was almost ideal, and as Ward Hill started 
swiftly away from the bank to join his friends, who 
could be seen darting about here and there over the 
ice, he felt all the exhilaration that would naturally 
come to a vigorous, full-blooded, hearty boy on a 
keen winter day. 

The clouds in the sky were lead-colored and yet were 
broken into patches by the sun, which apparently was 
striving to break through them and do its utmost to 
warm the cold and frozen earth beneath. There was 
not much wind stirring, and the biting air, while it 
foretold the possibilities of coming storms, chiefly 
served to quicken the movements of the boys. 

Nor were the Weston boys the only ones to be 
seen upon the ice. The townspeople were there, and 
several of the teachers were gliding over the river with 
all the enjoyment of their younger companions. The 
entire scene was an animated one, and before Ward 
had overtaken his friends, his whole being had entered 
into the enjoyment which the occasion afforded. 


OVER THE ICE TO SM 1 THVILLE 297 

“Thought you weren’ t coming, Ward/’ called Brown 
as he skated up to meet his friend. 

In his hand he carried a long stick with a curve in 
the end of it, and Ward knew at once that a game of 
‘ ‘ hockey ’ ’ was being arranged. 

“I came as soon as I could get away,” replied Ward. 
“I ran over to see Jack for just a minute before I 
started. If he was only here I’d feel as if the day was 
complete.” 

“ It won’t be long, Doctor Leslie says, before Jack’s 
out again; but he wouldn’t want any of us to be 
moping around on his account, when there’s such 
skating as this to be had. It isn’t often that Weston 
does so well by us. I’m glad for one, that there’s a 
let-up on snow, and that we’ve got some ice for a 
change, especially since Doctor Gray has stopped the 
use of bobs.” 

“That’s all right,” said Ward. “ What are you go- 
ing to do, have a game of hockey? ” 

“That’s what we were just fixing up before you came. 
Come on and take a hand.” 

‘ ‘ I haven’ t any stick. ’ ’ 

“You can cut one down the river. Come along and 
I’ll show you the place.” 

'Ward skated along by the side of his companion, 
admiring his ease and grace as he swept swiftly forward. 
Skating was not one of Ward’s strongest points and he 
was well aware of the fact. In his home at Rockford 
the salt air, warmed by the breezes of the near-by gulf 
stream, prevented the ice from forming, or from lasting 


298 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


long if it was once formed, and as a consequence his 
skill and success as a skater were far below his prowess 
in base ball. Still, he could do fairly well, and had no 
difficulty in maintaining his place beside his companions 
on their longer expeditions, although he was lacking 
entirely in the ability which many of them possessed to 
dodge and perform tricks on the ice. 

The two boys soon returned and entered into the 
game which already had been begun. Big Smith was 
the leader and for agility and swiftness no one was his 
equal on skates. Apparently he enjoyed the attention 
which his work attracted, but his pride was as nothing 
compared with that which he had displayed in the pre- 
ceding year on a similar occasion. 

Big Smith was certainly changing, thought Ward, as 
he watched him moving swiftly about in advance of his 
fellows and sending the ball spinning over the ice by 
the quick strokes of his club. 

For an hour the game continued, and then some 
short races were arranged, but neither Ward nor Henry 
competed in them. They both were aware of their 
own limitations in this particular, and wisely refrained 
from exposing their lack of ability. Big Smith easily 
led all the boys in the races and afforded endless 
amusement as he beamed upon his companions when 
he crossed the line far in advance of them all. 

“It’s nothing I ought to feel proud of,” said Big 
Smith as he skated swiftly toward the place where 
Ward was standing and watching the race. “It just 
comes to me. If there’s anything I can do, Ward, to 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 299 

teach you how it’s done, I’d be glad to do it, you 
know. ’ * 

“ Thank you,” replied Ward taking no offense at 
the condescending manner. He had come to under- 
stand the lad better now, and knew that much of his 
peculiarity was to be attributed to a fault in the man- 
ner, rather than in the heart, of the strange boy. 

“I say, fellows,” called Berry, “let’s go down to 
Smithville. ’ ’ 

Smithville was a little hamlet which lay about six 
miles farther down the river. Two or three large 
factories were there, and as they were owned by a man 
named Smith, he had kindly bestowed his name upon 
the little cluster of houses, which with the one grocery 
store, the blacksmith shop, and the post office, com- 
prised the place. 

“Isn’t it against the rules to go there without per- 
mission?” inquired Henry. 

“There’s one of the teachers now,” said Big Smith. 
“I’ll go and ask him.” 

Big Smith soon returned with the desired permission, 
and away sped the eager lads, skating well together, 
and yet soon leaving behind them the company at 
Weston. “The Rock” lay about half-way between 
the two villages, and it was not long before its gray 
outlines could be seen. 

“Some one’s up there on the rock by the red tree,” 
said Berry, who was skating beside Ward. “There are 
two of them,” lie added a moment later, “and they 
have kindled a fire. ’ ’ 


300 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


The smoke and flames could be clearly discerned as 
the boys came nearer, and Ward said, “If I’m not 
mistaken that’s Tim Pickard, there. Who’s that with 
him?’’ 

“If it’s Tim, the other fellow will be Ripley,’’ re- 
plied Berry. “ He’s a regular ‘me too ’ for Tim, and 
follows him around like a shadow. Hello, there’s 
something wrong up in front. The fellows have all 
stopped. I wonder what it is,” and Berry darted 
swiftly ahead as he spoke. 

Ward also increased his speed as he saw that his 
companions had stopped and were either looking care- 
fully ahead or else skating slowly about in circles. 

As he approached he saw what had occasioned the 
halt of the boys. Directly in front of the rock, in the 
narrow place in the river, the dark water appeared and 
there was an open space of six or eight feet directly in 
front of them. 

“The current’s been too swift for the water to 
freeze/’ said Berry, as Ward came up. “We’ll have 
to go around it if we keep on to Smithville.” 

“Oh, no, we won’t,” said Big Smith. “The ice is 
all strong close up to the water on each side. I’ve 
been examining it and I know it’s so. I’ll show you 
how to clear that space without going to the trouble of 
taking off your skates and tramping around it. Here 
goes ! ’ ’ 

As he spoke, Big Smith started back up the river in 
the direction from which they had come, but when he 
had gone a hundred yards, he turned sharply and 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 301 

started back toward them. His speed increased as he 
came on, and his long strokes became longer and 
swifter. On and on came the excited boy, until he 
had passed them all, moving straight toward the open 
place in the river. 

“Hold on, Big Smith!” called Henry sharply. 
“ Don’t try that ! It isn’t safe.” 

But Big Smith did not heed the warning. His speed 
seemed the rather to increase, and as he came near to 
the edge of the ice he suddenly launched himself into 
the air and leaped forward. Across the dark water he 
shot, and striking fairly upon his feet on the ice on the 
farther side, in a moment regained his balance, and 
then turning about and facing his companions, took off 
his hat and bowed low to them all. 

A shout of applause greeted his success, and in a 
moment some of the other boys prepared to follow his 
example. One after another drew back, and then 
plunging ahead cleared the open space and landed 
safely on the other side. 

“ Come on, Ward ! ” called Big Smith from the far- 
ther side. “It’s as easy as breathing ! ” 

“ Excuse me !" replied Ward. “It stops my breath 
to think of it. ’ ’ 

And stooping low upon the ice he removed his 
skates and prepared to walk around the rock and re- 
join his companions, an example which Henry speedily 
followed. 

As they passed “The Rock” Tim Pickard greeted 
them with a loud laugh, but although Ward’s cheeks 


302 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


flushed he did not otherwise heed the taunt, and soDn 
came down to the solid ice again and put on his skates. 
His companions had not waited, and already were rap- 
idly disappearing from sight down the river. 

‘ ‘ I wish I could skate as those fellows can, ’ ’ said 
Ward as he arose; “but I can’t and there’s no use 
in pretending I can. It would have been a piece of 
foolishness for me to try to jump. I’d have only 
fallen in.” 

‘ ‘ You’ re right, Ward, ’ ’ replied Henry. ‘ ‘ It was fool- 
ish in them to do it too.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Ward. “Big Smith could 
almost step across. I don’t like to have the fellows 
think I was afraid.” 

“What if they do? I can’t see what you need to 
care. I think there is a big difference between a fellow 
being brave and being reckless. It doesn’ t pay to take 
any chances, and we’re not out to see what big things 
we can do ; we’re out for the fun of skating.” 

“We’re likely to have lots of fun then, before we 
catch up with the fellows. My ! just look at them go it, 
will you ? They must be trying to see which can get 
into Smithville first. Come on, Henry ! We don’t want 
them to pick us up on their way back. ’ ’ 

The two boys said no more and bent to their task 
with all their energy. On and on they swept, the ring 
of their skates sounding sharply in the frosty air. 

When at last they arrived at Smithville none of the 
boys could be seen. Ward and Henry looked all about 
them and, unable to discover what had become of their 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 303 

companions, were about to start back when they saw a 
man approaching. 

“ Have you seen anything of a crowd of boys here? ” 
said Ward. 

1 1 A crowd of boys ? ’ ’ replied the man slowly. ‘ ‘ I 
don’t know as I jes’ know how many a crowd is. 
Come to think of it, I did see some boys with skates 
on their shoulders. They wasn’t so many of them as 
they might be, but they made noise enough for a army 
with banners. Mebbe that’s the crowd what you 
meant? ” 

“ Yes, yes,” said Ward quickly. “Where did they 
go ? Where are they now ? ’ ’ 

“That’s more’n I can say,” replied the man. “I 
saw ’em goin’ up to the grocery store, but whether 
they’re there now’s more’n I can say.” 

“Come on, Henry ! We’ll go up to the store,” said 
Ward quickly. 

A shout of welcome greeted them as they entered 
the little store, and they quickly discovered their lost 
companions busily engaged in an attack upon some 
crackers and cheese which they had purchased. 

“Come on, boys, we’ll give you some of the 
crumbs,” called Brown. “We didn’t know what had 
become of you, you dropped so far behind us. We 
thought possibly you’d stopped to warm yourselves by 
Tim Pickard’s fire. I guess he’d be glad to warm you 
up, Ward.” 

Ward laughed, and both he and Henry accepted the 
invitation to join the others in their repast. 


3°4 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


As they stood by the great stove warming themselves 
and eating of the crackers and cheese, the few people 
in the store looked on in silent wonderment. Perhaps 
it had been so long since they themselves had been 
boys that they had forgotten how boys act ; or, as was 
more likely true, they never had known the light- 
hearted, free-from-care boyhood whose noisy and yet 
innocent demonstrations they saw before them. 

Happy the boy who has a happy boyhood. Cares 
come soon enough, but the best preparation for bear- 
ing them is not to be found in bearing them before 
the shoulders have been fitted and broadened for the 
burden. 

When at last they were ready to start back for Wes- 
ton, Big Smith said : “ Now, boys, we mustn’t go fast. 
We want Ward and Henry with us, so we’ll keep to- 
gether. ’ ’ 

It was a new part for Big Smith to play, and Ward 
thought of the changes which had come over the 
strange lad since he had first entered Weston. “Per- 
haps they’re no greater than those in me,” he thought. 
“I’m hoping not. Don’t wait for us,” he said aloud. 
“If we can’t keep up we deserve to be left behind. 
Go ahead and we’ll do our best to follow.” 

The boys however kept well together, and as they 
drew near the rock they discovered Tim Pickard and 
Ripley slowly skating before them. Both were between 
them and the open space, and soon discovered the ap- 
proaching band. 

Apparently the sight was not overmuch pleasing to 


OVER THE ICE TO SMITHVILLE 305 

them, for they at once turned and darted swiftly toward 
the open space. 

e “They’re going to jump it,” said Berry as he 
watched the movements of the boys before him. 

In a moment Tim increased his speed, and as he 
arrived near the edge of the ice leaped into the air. 

Whether his foot had slipped, or he had miscalcu- 
lated the distance, they could not determine, but a 
loud cry arose from Ripley as Tim fell directly into the 
open water. 

With an answering cry every boy in the band instantly 
increased his speed and started swiftly toward the strug- 
gling lad. 


u 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE MISHAP NEAR 1 ‘THE ROCK ” 

I T seemed to Ward as if some invisible hand was 
holding him back as he strove desperately to make 
his way forward to the aid of the boy, who could be 
seen struggling in the water. All his feeling of enmity 
was forgotten in an instant, and with his companions 
he was doing his utmost to cover the space that re- 
mained between him and the open spot in the river. 

Ripley seemed to be utterly helpless to aid. He 
was skating about on the solid ice, never once trying to 
go to Tim’s assistance, and kept shouting in his loud- 
est tones for aid. Ward rejoiced as he saw that his 
companions were outstripping him in the race, and with 
Big Smith far in advance of all the others, were swiftly 
bearing down upon the place they were seeking. 

Indeed, in a very brief time Big Smith was almost 
upon the edge of the ice, but turning sharply in his 
course he shouted to his companions: “Look out, 
look out, boys! The ice here isn’t safe! It’ll give 
way under you ! Look out ! Look out ! ’’ 

All of them, including Ward, had now joined him, 
and the cracking sound of the ice under the feet of 
Big Smith could be distinctly heard. It almost seemed 
as if it would give way beneath them, and governed as 
306 


THE MISHAP NEAR THE ROCK 307 

by a common impulse, they drew back a little and then 
turned to gaze at the luckless Tim. 

The lad was clinging desperately with his hands to 
the edge of the ice and his face was turned 'directly 
toward them. Not a cry had he yet uttered, but his 
expression of agony and fear needed no interpreter. 

Meanwhile Ripley was still skating in and out among 
them and was shouting in his loudest tones, “Help! 
Help! Why doesn’t some one come? Why doesn’t 
somebody do something? Help ! Help !” 

4 ‘Keep still, Ripley!” said Brown roughly. “We’re 
going to do all we can ! You’d better make less noise 
and go for a fence rail.” 

As he spoke, two or three of the boys darted swiftly 
toward the bank for the aid which Brown had sug- 
gested. Ward was the first to reach the shore, and 
without stopping to remove his skates, he ran awk- 
wardly up the bank and wrenched one of the rails from 
its place in the low fence which extended back from the 
river. 

“ Get another one ! Get two of them !” he shouted 
excitedly to the other boys who came a moment later, 
and without waiting to see whether they followed his 
directions or not, started at once to return with his 
load. No sooner, however, had he struck the ice than 
his feet flew out from under him and his burden was 
flung far away. 

With a groan he started swiftly for the rail again, and 
as he picked up one end and turned again toward the 
place where Tim was struggling in the water, he almost 


308 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


stopped in his astonishment as he saw what the boys 
were doing. 

Big Smith lay extended at full length upon the ice 
and was striving to crawl along toward Tim. Berry 
also was extended in a similar manner and was clinging 
to Big Smith’s feet, while Brown was holding to his and 
he too lay at full length upon the treacherous ice. 
Ward did not halt, however, but rushed forward with 
all the speed he could summon to the aid of his com- 
panions and the struggling boy. 

“Here, take this!” he shouted as he pushed his 
burden toward them ; but none of the boys heeded 
him now. 

Tim’s face was pinched and blue, and his hands 
were so numb he could hardly retain his grasp on the 
edge of the ice. Indeed, once or twice pieces broke 
away and he almost lost his hold, but each time he 
managed to grasp the ice again, although it was clearly 
evident that his strength was diminishing. 

When Tim had attempted to make the leap across 
the open water he had skated farther in toward the 
western shore. There the current was much swifter 
than on the other side, and as a consequence the ice 
which had formed was not so thick and perhaps was 
also worn more by the swift water beneath it, for in 
the narrow pass by ‘ ‘ The Rock, ’ ’ where the waters of 
the little river had been crowded into a much smaller 
space, they were naturally much deeper and were car- 
ried forward at a much swifter rate than in any other 
portion of the stream. Indeed, it had been a current 


THE MISHAP NEAR THE ROCK 


309 


report that there was “no bottom” to the river just 
off from the edge of “The Rock” ; but Ward had 
never tested the truth of the report, having been en- 
tirely satisfied that the water there must be very deep. 

Tim had fallen directly into the place where the 
water was the deepest and the current swiftest. How 
black the river looked there now, and with what eager 
haste it seemed to rush forward ! Again and again 
Tim’s body was turned partially about by the treacher- 
ous, hungry-looking, cruel water; but he was a strong 
boy and all his strength was exerted in the grasp with 
which he desperately clung to the crumbling ice. But 
not a cry had he uttered since he had fallen in. His 
face was turned all the time toward the boys who were 
attempting to rescue him, and his eyes had a far differ- 
ent expression in them from any which the boys had 
ever seen before. 

The other boys who had gone for the fence rails had 
now returned with their burdens and laid them on the 
ice ; but in the desperate efforts which the three lads 
were making, they did not heed the return of their fel- 
lows or relax their efforts to reach the struggling Tim. 

And now Big Smith’s hands were within a few feet 
of Tim’s. Once or twice Tim released his grasp with 
one hand and strove desperately to grasp that of Big 
Smith’s, which was so near him ; but as the swift cur- 
rent turned him about, he was quickly compelled to 
abandon the effort and exert all his strength in main- 
taining his position and hold on the ice before him. 

Gradually, inch by inch, Big Smith worked his way 


3io 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


forward and at last his hands were within a few inches 
of Tim’s. “Just a minute ! Hold on just a minute 
longer; I’ll get you,” he called encouragingly. As 
he tried desperately to move forward over the treach- 
erous ice a little nearer to the edge, suddenly there 
was a cracking and snapping, and before they all fairly 
realized what had occurred, the ice gave way and Big 
Smith also was plunged into the water. 

Berry and Brown were so far back that they con- 
tinued to maintain themselves, although Berry was 
almost thrown into the river ; but a cry of anguish 
arose from them all as they saw what had befallen Big 
Smith and Tim. 

Instantly turning and seizing the rails, they tried to 
thrust them out for the struggling boys to grasp. The 
ice on which they were was much thicker than that which 
had been broken and there was not much danger for 
themselves ; but both Big Smith and Tim were struggling 
desperately with the ice and the swift-flowing water. 

Tim instantly grasped the rail which was held toward 
him, and with the aid of two of the boys was hastily 
drawn up on the ice. Big Smith, however, was not 
able to reach the one which was thrust toward him, 
and for a moment disappeared beneath the water. 

As he arose again to the surface the desperate boys 
threw one rail into the river for him to grasp and then 
held the third in their hands exerting themselves to the 
utmost to extend it far enough for him to take. 

“He can’t swim!” shouted Ward. “He can’t 
swim ! Some one will have to go in after him ! Quick ! 


THE MISHAP NEAR THE ROCK 3 I I 

Quick! He’ll drown! He’ll drown! Here, I’ll go 
in for him ! ’ ’ 

Before the excited lad could plunge into the water, 
however, the swift current caught Big Smith, and right 
before their eyes, as he sank again, swept him under 
the ice, and in an instant he had disappeared from 
their sight. 

In an agony of suspense they waited for him to ap- 
pear again, but when several minutes had elapsed and 
he did not appear, they turned and looked at one an- 
other in speechless fear. 

“Take Tim up to that house,” said Ward quickly, 
pointing as he spoke toward a large square white house 
which they could all see standing a little back from the 
road. “ Come on, and we’ll look a little farther down 
stream for Big Smith. ’ ’ 

As Ripley removed his own overcoat and hastily 
wrapped it around the shivering Tim, and started with 
him toward the house, the other boys instantly followed 
Ward’s advice. One was left with a rail by the open 
place and the others quickly spread out and taking 
different positions along the river began to search for 
the places where it was possible to see Big Smith beneath 
the ice. 

No one ever knew the desperate nature of that 
search which followed. Up and down the river the 
boys moved, now in nearer the banks and now farther 
out in the stream, sometimes stopping and striving to 
peer through the ice, dreading and yet hoping to dis- 
cover that for which they were seeking. 


312 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


The sun sank lower and lower in the western sky. 
The lead-colored clouds took on brighter hues as they 
caught up the reflections of the setting sun. The 
silence which rested over the river was becoming more 
and more oppressive, and Ward felt as if he must cry 
aloud in his agony. 

Still the search was maintained, and up and down 
the river the boys moved, never for a moment giving 
over the search. A half-hour passed, and then another, 
still another half-hour came and departed, and the vigi- 
lance of the boys was not relaxed. 

As they approached one another no one spoke, but 
the dumb anguish in each heart became deeper and 
stronger every moment. 

‘‘I’m afraid, fellows, we’ll have to give it up,” said 
Berry at last with a choking in his throat as he spoke. 
‘‘Poor Big Smith ! I’m afraid his body will never be 
found.” 

“We’ll not give it up yet,” said Ward thickly. 
“Let’s go over the ground again.” 

Without any reply being made the boys resumed 
their hopeless search. Farther out into the stream 
they moved now and farther down the river also. 

But the dusk steadily deepened. No trace of the 
missing boy had been discovered, and they were almost 
despairing now. Even Ward was becoming hopeless, 
and was about to acknowledge that further efforts would 
be useless, when suddenly Henry gave a loud shout 
and waved his arms frantically for his companions to 
come to the place where he was standing. 


THE MISHAP NEAR THE ROCK 3 1 3 

In a moment, and with the speed of the wind, the 
boys swept down upon him, and without a word having 
been spoken peered down through the clear ice at 
something to which Henry pointed. No one spoke for 
a moment, though they all were convinced that the 
object of their long search had been found. 

“We’ve got to have an axe,” said Ward in a low 

0 

voice, and almost before the words were spoken Brown 
had started swiftly across the river in the direction in 
which Tim and Ripley had gone. 

In breathless suspense the boys waited for him to 
return, but they never removed their gaze from that 
dark object which could be dimly discerned beneath 
the clear ice of the river. There was a fear in the 
heart of each that the swift current would wrest the 
body from its place and sweep it on down the stream. 
In such an event all further labor would be useless. 

“ Here he comes ! ” said Henry at last, as he saw 
Brown returning, bearing an axe in his arms. 

In a few moments he rejoined them, and then they 
set about their task. 

Just what followed Ward never clearly knew. He 
was dimly conscious that Brown cut a hole through the 
ice, and that he or some other of the boys took one of 
the rails and thrust it through the hole and held it 
steadily in its place. 

More ice was then cut away, and still more ; then 
they all bent low and thrust their arms deep into the 
water. Even then they were unable to grasp the body 
and once more the rail was called into service. Then 


3 H 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


as the body rose one of the boys grasped it and held it 
until his companions could come to his assistance. 
With one strong steady pull by their united efforts suc- 
cess came, and in a moment the body of their compan- 
ion was on the ice beside them. 

Few of them could restrain the sobs which somehow 
would come. For a brief time they gazed at one 
another as if all were afraid to speak or to voice the 
feelings of their hearts. Big Smith alone was motion- 
less and still, and the trouble which overpowered the 
others did not affect him. The water ran in little 
streams from his clothing, the dusk of the evening 
seemed to soften the expression on the face and the 
grief of the boys broke forth afresh. 

There is no sight in all the world to be compared 
with that of the first great grief which comes to a young 
heart. But Big Smith was not there ; only his cold 
and dripping lifeless body remained. And only a brief 
time before he had been the most active of them all. 
It seemed as if he must speak to them, and his merry 
shout be heard as he dashed away in advance of them 
all. 

The truth however must be faced, and they all real- 
ized that something must be done at once. Ward 
glanced up, and as he looked along the shore he real- 
ized how it was that they had discovered the body. 
Just below “The Rock” there was a little bay in the 
river extending for a hundred feet down the stream. 
On the point where the curve in the shore had ended, 
a tall tree had stood for many years, but at last its days 


THE MISHAP NEAR THE ROCK 3 I 5 

were numbered, and during the gales of the winter it 
had fallen forward into the river, its long branches ex- 
tending out into the channel. Doubtless the current 
which had swept Big Smith under the ice, had borne 
him on with its swift waters until the body had been 
caught and held by the outstretched branches of the 
fallen tree, and the ice there, almost like crystal, had 
been clear enough to reveal the resting place of the 
unfortunate boy. 

No one stopped long to consider these things at the 
time, however, and soon it was decided to carry the body 
up to the house to which Tim and Ripley had gone. 
The boys removed their skates, and tenderly placing 
the dripping body on two of their overcoats, which 
they contrived to fasten together, they lifted their bur- 
den and the sorrowful procession quietly and slowly 
started toward the house. 

The shocked expression upon the face of the lady 
who greeted them at the door, quickly gave place to 
one of pity and sympathy, and she hastily bade them 
enter. The body was placed upon one of her beds, 
and then stopping only long enough to learn that Tim 
had been well looked to by the kind-hearted women, 
they immediately departed to bear the sad message 
back to Weston. 

They soon decided that they could go more rapidly 
by using their skates, and so returned to the river 
above “The Rock.” As they skated on together, no 
one spoke, but they all were thinking of the sad change 
which there was between the time a few hours before, 


316 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


when they had swept down the river with all the glad- 
ness of a lot of happy, joyous boys, and the present. 

It was late when they drew near to Weston, and all 
the skaters had departed from the river. None of them 
lamented the absence, however, and when at last they 
went up the broad, winding street and stopped before 
the school buildings, they knew that they must at once 
decide who should go to Doctor Gray with the sad 
news. 

‘‘Ward, I think you and Henry had better tell the 
principal,” said Brown. 

“I’m willing to be the spokesman,” replied Ward, 
“but I think we’d better all go up together.” 

His suggestion was agreed to, and sadly the little 
band turned and started toward Doctor Gray’s home 
on the opposite side of the street. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


TIM PICKARD’S LAST SPEECH 

D OCTOR GRAY met the band of boys and in a 
few moments their sad story was told. The re- 
action in their feelings seemed to come as soon as they 
felt that the responsibility had been lifted from their 
shoulders, and as they sat together in the principal’s 
study, some of them could not keep back the tears. 

Doctor Gray, himself, seemed to be moved almost 
as much as the boys themselves and when at last they 
arose to depart, he said: “It’s a sad piece of work, 
boys; but I’m sure you have done all that was in your 
power for the poor lad. There is nothing more for you 
to do now, and the teachers will at once assume charge 
of all the further details. ’ ’ 

The news of the drowning quickly spread throughout 
the school and. there was not a boy who did not share 
in the sorrow. Big Smith had never been popular, 
and his marked peculiarities had many times served as 
the target for the boys’ wit ; but there had been a 
marked change in him since the present school year 
had opened, and the peculiar traits in his character had 
been more clearly understood. 

All the recitations were suspended, and on the sec- 
ond day after the unfortunate lad’s father and mother 

3i7 


318 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


had come in response to the telegram Doctor Gray had 
sent them, a brief service was held, and the long pro- 
cession of students followed the remains out from the 
chapel to the place from which the departure from 
Weston was to be made. 

On Saturday the work of the school was resumed, 
but no one had yet recovered from the shock which 
the sad accident had occasioned. However, the spirits 
of boys are not long able to be held down, even by 
such a blow as that which had fallen upon the Weston 
school, and as they met on Sunday there were many 
words spoken as to what would now be done in the 
case of Tim Pickard, for they all were aware that while 
the consideration of the disturbance in Mr. Blake’s 
room had been postponed, it would still have to be met 
in some fashion soon. 

Tim himself had not been seen by any of the boys, 
since the accident had occurred. It was known that 
he had returned to Mrs. Perrins’, but by the advice of 
Doctor Leslie he had remained in his room, and the 
thoughts of the boys had been so fully occupied by the 
death of Big Smith that no one had busied himself in 
Tim’s behalf. 

However, when the boys assembled in the chapel on 
Monday morning and Tim was seen in his accustomed 
place, there was a subdued excitement manifest and 
somehow they expected that something would be said 
or done concerning the escapade in Mr. Blake’s room. 

Nor were they mistaken. 

When the morning service was ended and before the 


TIM PICKARD’S LAST SPEECH 


319 


boys were dismissed, Doctor Gray arose from his seat 
on the platform and advanced to the desk. As he 
stood there, looking around upon the assembly before 
him, it was evident to all that he was deeply moved, 
and the silence of all the boys at once betrayed their 
sympathy and interest. In a brief time Doctor Gray 
recovered from his emotion and in a low voice began to 
address the school. 

‘‘It has been seldom in my experience that I have 
seen this school so deeply stirred as it has been by the 
sad occurrences of the past few days. As you all know, 
one of the seniors, who had apparently the promise 
of as long a life as any of his mates, in a moment has 
been taken from us. His vacant place to-day speaks 
far more eloquently than any words of mine could do, 
and I have slight inclination to say anything which 
might add to your grief, or deepen your sorrow. ’ * 

Doctor Gray then went on to speak of some of the 
better qualities of Big Smith. As he enumerated the 
elements in him which had seemed to be most promis- 
ing, and spoke of his earnestness, his fidelity, his de- 
sire to improve, all the boys felt that he was speaking 
justly. 

“ I do not say that there were not many points in 
which the lad did not need to improve. I, as well as 
you, know that to be true. If he had had all things in 
his life as he, or we, would have had them, there would 
have been no necessity of his coming to this school or 
going to any school. The Weston school was established 
not for the benefit of those who knew, but for those who 


320 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


did not know. Just as a church is not composed of 
those who are perfect, but is made up of those who 
realize their imperfections and are striving to improve, 
this school is designed not for those who know, but for 
those who do not know. ‘They that are whole have 
no need of a physician, but they that are sick. ’ And 
doubtless there were many ways in which Smith might 
have improved and in which he knew his deficiencies ; 
but you will all bear me witness, I am sure, as to one 
thing : the current of his life, the main direction in 
which his life as a whole was moving, was toward better 
things. He was learning not only from his teachers 
but from his mates, and many of us could see the 
change and improvement in him. The journey of life 
is in some ways like the ascent of the hill we know as 
the ‘Hump.’ The goal is the summit, but some may 
start at a point higher than others, and to them the as- 
cent is not so long nor so difficult. The great question, 
however, is not whether the path is long or short, but 
whether each traveler is moving in the right direction. 
And the life of our young friend was moving, not farther 
down into the valley, but upward toward the summit. 
He perhaps had not gone far up the ascent, and it may 
be that some of you had already passed the places to 
which he had yet to climb, but he was moving, and in 
the right direction. 

“The life was a brief one, but its end to me was sub- 
lime. It was an end to which many never attain, for 
Smith, perhaps unconsciously, but none the less truly, 
had learned the lesson that as life is given, life is 


TIM PICKARD S LAST SPEECH 


321 


gained. He gave himself for another. He died in 
the effort to save a friend. No life, whatever its de- 
fects or greatness, ever rises to greater heights than 
that, to give itself without reserve for others and to 
find life by losing it. ’ ’ 

Doctor Gray stopped for a moment and the silence 
in the room was most intense. 

“ Smith laid down his life for his friend,” resumed 
the principal. “The most of you may never be called 
upon for such a sacrifice as that, but I can have no 
higher wish for any of you than that you should take 
up your lives for your friends. The stronger ought to 
help the weaker. I pray God to give to you all a 
strong and vigorous manhood, but I pray him more 
that your strength may always be used to help, and not 
to hinder others ; and that in doing your part toward 
making the world a little better when you leave it 
than it was when you entered it, you may find the 
great riddle of existence solved as far as you are con- 
cerned. ’ * 

Not all of the boys understood what Doctor Gray 
meant, but his deep feeling and his earnestness were 
appreciated by every one, even by the youngest ; and 
the interest with which they listened was as manifest as 
it was deep and intense. 

“I come now, however,” resumed Doctor Gray,, 
“to speak of another matter, even far more painful 
than that of the death of our young friend. While 
death is sad, evil is a source of still greater sadness. 
All lives must end and the time of the ending is not a 
v 


322 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


matter of such moment as we in our ignorance some- 
times think. Failure of life is worse, much worse. Last 
week, as you know, there was a disgraceful scene in one 
of the recitation rooms. The purposes of your parents 
in sending you here, and I trust as well the purposes 
of most of you in coming, the work of a faithful teacher 
and the object of all the work, were thwarted by the 
silly, disgraceful, childish pranks of some of the boys. 
Such actions are beneath the dignity of all true-hearted 
students, but when young men return to the actions of 
their childhood, then they must be treated as children. 
They must be protected from themselves, and the 
earnest students as well must be protected from them. 
However, as long as there is a spark of manliness re- 
maining in a boy’s heart, the case is not entirely hope- 
less, and the instigator, although perhaps not the per- 
petrator of the outrage on the senior class and on Mr. 
Blake, has now a word to say to you. ’ ’ 

A ripple of suppressed excitement passed over the 
assembly and the eyes of all the boys were instantly 
turned toward Tim Pickard. 

At first Tim did not move, but in a moment he arose 
slowly from his seat and faced the school. 

“Come up on the platform, Pickard,” said Doctor 
Gray quietly. “You will be heard better here.” 

Tim hesitated and at first did not respond, then he 
turned and slowly made his way to the platform. 

As he stood there looking down upon the school, all 
could see that his face was deadly pale, but whether it was 
from the excitement of the moment, or the effect of his 














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♦ 




















































































“Is that all you have to say, Pickard?” Page 323 


m 



tim pickard’s last speech 323 

plunge in the river and the consequent suffering, none 
could tell. Breathlessly they waited for the boy to 
speak, and Ward Hill, in spite of the anger and dis- 
gust he had cherished for him, could not repress a feel- 
ing of sympathy for the lad. His suffering was so 
clearly evident that the hardest heart must have been 
touched. 

“I had no business,” began Tim hesitatingly, “to 
have those clocks go off in Mr. Blake’s room. I was 
the one that got up the trick and I don’t mind saying so. 
Doctor Gray wants me to say so here, so I say it. Of 
course I’m sorry for all the trouble it has made, and I 
didn’ t know it would make so much trouble; either. ’ ’ 

Tim stopped and glanced questioningly at the prin- 
cipal who was still standing behind his little reading 
stand. 

* ‘ Is that all you have to say, Pickard ? ’ ' said Doc- 
tor Gray. 

“Is there anything more you want me to say?” 
replied Tim. 

“That will do. You may take your seat now.” 

Doctor Gray spoke quietly but there was a sternness 
in his voice which the boys had seldom heard. Ordi- 
narily he was the gentlest and mildest of men. He 
was always prone' to look for the best in every boy, and 
in his eagerness to find it, sometimes strained his 
justice. Indeed, more than once he had been criti- 
cised even by the boys themselves for being “too 
easy,” but when once he had decided upon a course 
of action he was firm to the end. With many, perhaps 


324 


WARD HILL — THE SENIOR 


with most of the boys, the respect with which they re- 
garded him, and his gentleness in dealing with their 
faults, had inspired a desire to respond to his appeals, 
but some, who mistook his kindness for laxity or in- 
difference, had many a sad lesson to learn. 

With a few words Doctor Gray dismissed the assem- 
bly, and as the boys passed out from the chapel the 
exciting events of the morning furnished the uppermost 
theme of their conversation. 

That afternoon Ward went over to Jack’s room and 
related all that had occurred. Jack was nearly well 
now, and expected to be able to resume his work in a 
day or two. He had been deeply affected by Big 
Smith’s death, and Ward had never before seen him in 
so serious a mood. 

“Well,” said Jack, when Ward ceased, “that’s the 
end of Tim so far as Weston is concerned.” 

“What do you mean? Won’t Doctor Gray accept 
his apology and give him another chance ? ’ ’ 

“Apology? Do you call that an apology? Not 
much ! I know Tim Pickard too well for that. He 
just said what he did because the doctor made him. 
Maybe he thought his words would make it all smooth, 
but they wouldn’t and they didn’t.” 

“What do you mean? How do you know they 
didn’t? ” 

“Because Tim’s packing up and going to start for 
home to-night. He’s just been in to say good-bye to 
me. I must say Pm glad he’s going too. If a fellow, 
after what Big Smith tried to do for him, hasn’t any 


tim pickard’s last speech 325 

more of a sense of decency than to try to pass it all off 
as he did, why he isn’t fit to be in the school, according 
to my way of thinking, and the best thing he can do is 
to leave, and the sooner he goes the better. ” 

Ward was silent and Jack soon resumed. He was 
more stirred than his friend ever had seen him before, 
and Ward’s surprise did not decrease as Jack went on. 

“I’ve got something to remember him by, myself,” 
and Jack held up his maimed hand as he spoke, “but 
I could pass that all by, for I don’t suppose he really 
intended to do me any injury. When it comes, though, 
to his never even mentioning what Big Smith did when 
he was trying to pull him out of the river, that’s 
another matter entirely. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps he did think of it,” said Ward. “You 
know Tim never was much of a hand to show his feel- 
ings. His face was like chalk when he was talking in 
the chapel this morning. You’d have hardly recog- 
nized him if you had seen him. ’ ’ 

“ His face isn’t half so white as his liver,” said Jack 
indignantly. “I could get along with all of his mean 
tricks, for I’m afraid I shouldn’t have very much to say 
myself; but I can’t get over his never having a word 
to say about poor Big Smith. Why, he never said a 
word to me about him, and I gave him a dozen good 
chances too.” 

When Ward departed from Jack’s room he stopped 
for a moment in the campus and appeared to be in 
deep thought. Soon, however, his face took on an ex- 
pression of decision and what he had been thinking 


326 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


about became apparent as he turned about in the path 
and started directly toward Mrs. Perrins’. 

Tim was there and Ward was speedity ushered into 
his room. He remained there for an hour or more, 
and when at last he started back to his own room in 
West Hall, there was a softer expression upon his face, 
but he never mentioned to any one, not even to Jack, 
what the subject or the result of his conversation with 
Tim had been. That night Tim Pickard departed from 
Weston and never returned. 

Little Smith came back to the school a few days 
afterward, and the marked change in him was apparent 
to all. Indeed, in all the boys the death of Big Smith 
seemed to have wrought a change. They assembled in 
the various rooms as they had done before, and their 
merry laughter would be heard, but the slightest refer- 
ence to their former comrade served to make them all 
serious in a moment. 

The days of the long winter term passed on with but 
slight interruption, the examinations at last were all 
ended, and again the boys departed for home for their 
spring vacation. 

When the reports were received, Ward found that 
Pond still led the senior class, but he and Berry were 
tied for the second place. 

The pride and satisfaction of Ward’s father when he 
learned of the great improvement in his boy were won- 
derfully pleasing to Ward, and the resolution he formed 
to work even harder than he had done before was 
greatly strengthened, but he did not refer to it openly. 


tim pickard’s last speech 327 

He thought with mortification of the many promises he 
had made and broken, and was resolved that his actions 
should speak for him now. 

And yet he never had enjoyed a vacation more than 
that spring. The deep satisfaction arising from the 
knowledge that he had tried, and had done better work, 
was a source of happiness to him as well as to his 
father and mother. When he compared his own feel- 
ings with those he had had in the preceding year, he 
was aware of the deeper joy in his heart, although he 
did not yet fully appreciate the causes. Indeed, it 
sometimes takes a long life, and frequently even a long 
life does not teach men to know that the deepest joy 
of life arises not from outer surroundings, but from the 
harmony and lack of friction within the soul. When 
the busy wheels of a mill are running smoothly and the 
best work is being done, there is only the rhythmical 
hum ; but when something is wrong then there is a 
clattering which every passer-by can hear. 

The time soon came, all too soon as Ward thought, 
when the vacation was ended, and he and Henry 
started back to Weston for the last term the seniors 
were to spend in the old school at Weston. 


CHAPTER XXX 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 
HE spring term in the Weston school was always 



1 the most enjoyable one of the entire year. Not 
only was it briefer than either of the preceding terms, 
but the work itself was somewhat lighter, for the teach- 
ers seemed to realize that the boys were not quite so 
capable of holding to the steady routine of the school 
work as they were in the winter days, when there were 
not so many interruptions or distractions. 

And Weston in springtime was a place of beauty. 
The awakening life on the hillsides and in the valley, 
the returning beauty of the dark-green foliage, and 
even the very air seemed to feel the thrill of a new life. 
Even the mountain brooks dashed down the steep 
courses singing on their way as if they too would strive 
to voice the music which all nature felt like express- 
ing. 

As the warmer days came on, the enjoyment of the 
boys seemed to increase and the contrast with the long 
and somewhat dreary winter was the more marked. 
The long tramps over the hillsides were resumed, and on 
the half-holidays bands of Weston boys could be seen 
departing from the village for an excursion to some dis- 
tant point, and frequently some of the parties arranged 


328 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 329 

to spend the night in some safe and secluded spot on 
the hilltops. 

The experience was a delightful one to Ward, and 
on the theory that blessings are said to become brighter 
as they are about to take their flight, he seemed to en- 
joy each day the better because of the prospect that his 
school days would soon be ended. 

Little Pond, in spite of his devotion to his big 
brother, was Ward’s frequent companion on these ex- 
cursions, and the confidence and admiration he mani- 
fested for the senior were still grateful to him and were 
not without their effect. 

There was one event which occurred soon after Ward 
returned to the school which milst not be passed over 
in these annals. It was the first Saturday night of the 
spring term, and as there was no required study hour 
on that evening, Ward was just about to leave his room 
and go over to Jack’s to spend an hour or two, when., 
there came a rap on his door. 

As he responded to it, he was surprised to see Rip-, 
ley standing before him. In response to Ward’s invi- 
tation to enter, the boy, evidently somewhat embar- 
rassed, entered and took the proffered chair. 

For a moment neither spoke, both of them feeling 
somewhat constrained in view of their recent relations, 
which had been none too friendly ; but Ward was the 
first to break the awkward silence. 

“Have you heard from Tim?” he inquired. 

The question, he instantly thought, was an unfor- 
tunate one, and he regretted that he had asked it, for 


330 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


he knew that Ripley had not entirely escaped the sus- 
picion into which Tim Pickard had fallen. 

“No,” replied Ripley, “and I don’t know that I 
want to. Tim was my evil genius. I don’ t know why 
it was, but it always seemed to me that he was to 
blame for my failures. For my part, I’m glad that at 
last he has left the school for good and all. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know that you ought to blame Tim en- 
tirely,” said Ward slowly. “I know he wasn’t exactly 
the sort of a fellow that pushed one on to do his best, 
but after all I don’t know that he ought to be blamed 
for any more sins than he himself committed. ’ ’ 

“That’s all right,” said Ripley eagerly ; “I know 
how thick you and Tim were last year, and when you 
came back and broke with him, you don’t know how in 
my heart of hearts I respected you, and wished that I 
could do it too. But somehow I just couldn’t seem to 
break away. I’m not saying any one was to blame for 
my own failures, but somehow it seems to me as if I’d 
got a fresh start, now that he’s gone. But I didn’t 
come over here to hit Tim behind his back, now that 
he’s gone and isn’t here to fight for himself. I came 
over on my own account.” 

Ward made no reply, although he looked question- 
ingly at the boy before him. He was not unmindful 
of his own failures, and Ripley little dreamed how his 
reference to the relations between Ward and Tim in 
the preceding year had stirred the heart of the sensitive 
lad with emotions far from pleasurable. 

“Ward,” said Ripley abruptly, “I came over to 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 


331 


have it out. I’ve carried it just as long as I can and 
I’ve just got to make a clean breast of the whole 
thing. ’ ’ 

“ Perhaps I don’t know what you refer to,” replied 
Ward, although his manner clearly betrayed the fact 
that he was not entirely without knowledge of Ripley’s 
meaning. 

“Yes, you do know,” said Ripley quickly ; “I’m 
sure you know. The plain English of it is then, that I 
was the one who did the most in stacking your room 
last fall. And, Ward, I put the ashes on the path 
when ‘ The Arrow ’ and ‘ The Swallow ’ had the 
race last winter. I don’ t know why I did it, but I did, 
and that’s all there is about it.” 

“I knew that, Ripley,” replied Ward quietly. 

“I knew you did, Ward, and that was what made 
me feel so mean about it too. When I saw how you 
took it, it made me feel worse, and it got so bad I 
couldn’t bear it any longer. I just had to own up.” 

“That’s all right,” said Ward impulsively, as he 
arose and took the boy by the hand. 4 ‘ I confess I 
didn’t feel very happy over it at the time, but there 
were a good many reasons why I didn’ t feel as if I had 
a right to say very much. The worst thing about put- 
ting those ashes on the track was what happened to 
Jack Hobart. Have you seen him? ” 

“No, I haven’t,” said Ripley dejectedly. “I 
haven’t got my courage up to that point yet. I 
thought I’d come to you first and it might be that 
you could help me out with Jack.” 


332 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“The best thing you can do is to go straight to him 
yourself. Jack isn’t the fellow to hold a grudge, 
especially if he sees that the other fellow owns up like 
a man. You’d better go over yourself now and tell 
him straight just how it all was.” 

“I’ll do it, if you say so,” said Ripley, rising as he 
spoke. “But there’s another thing, Ward. I didn’t 
have anything to do with those alarm clocks in Mr. 
Blake’s room, honestly I didn’t, Ward; but I feel as 
if the whole school thought I did.” 

“Never mind that, then,” said Ward. “That will 
take care of itself. What you want now is to see Jack 
Hobart and make it up with him. You’ll feel better 
when you’ve done that.” 

“ I know it,” replied Ripley. “ I feel better already. 
I’ll go right over to East Hall now.” 

When Ripley had departed, Ward for a long time sat 
silent in his room. What had wrought the change in 
him he could not fully understand, but somehow he 
did not cherish a feeling of anger against the boy who 
had just confessed to his share in the annoyances he 
had suffered. His own failures were too glaring and 
recent for him to forget them entirely, but he was 
conscious that a change of some kind had come over 
him. 

Perhaps Ward was not aware of it, but the very 
things which had annoyed him most had not been 
without their profit for him. It might be “ woe ” for 
those through whom the offenses had come, but the 
offenses had been necessary, and their salutary lessons 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 


333 


had been well learned by Ward Hill, the senior. 
Some of the dormant qualities of his soul had been 
aroused, and he had met his temptations and con- 
quered them and by the very victory had strengthened 
his own character. He had learned, not by running 
from his temptations, but by facing and overcoming 
them. And there was no other way. 

When the shipbuilder wants the strong and reliable 
timbers for the ship he is building, he passes by the 
vines which cling to the stronger trees, he passes by 
the timber which has grown in the regions protected 
from the whistling winds and driving storms, and seeks 
the sturdy oaks which have faced the tempests and 
whose very fibres have been toughened by resistance to 
the blasts. 

And Ward Hill’s life was not unlike that. When he 
had first come up to the Weston school, he had come 
from a home in which he had been shielded from evil 
and kept from temptation. He, and perhaps his pa- 
rents as well, had mistaken his ignorance of evil for 
strength of character, but the sad revelation had quickly 
come when he had fallen. 

In the present year he had met his foes, and although 
the struggle had been one which had tried his soul, and 
though at times the victory almost seemed to waver, at 
last he had won because he had manfully exerted him- 
self, and conquered by the resolute use of all his 
powers. 

Ward never mentioned to Jack the interview he had 
had with Ripley, nor did he inquire as to the words 


334 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


Ripley had spoken to Jack ; but as he afterward saw 
the boys several times chatting pleasantly together, and 
noticed the new light in Ripley’s eyes, he was well 
satisfied that he had not been deceived in the promise 
he had given the troubled lad. 

The ball nine was sadly crippled by the loss of Tim 
Pickard who, with all his faults, was still the best pitcher 
in the school. At first it was thought best not to have 
a return game with the Burrs ; but as this was considered 
somewhat cowardly, the game was finally arranged and 
played upon the grounds of the rival school. 

The Weston boys lost the game, although they ac- 
quitted themselves far better than they had hoped to 
after the loss of their captain. As they had won one 
of the two annual games, however, they felt that the 
year was not entirely without its laurels and strove to 
rest content with the division of the honors. 

The days passed on, and Ward held himself reso- 
lutely and steadily to his work. Pond he was hopeless 
of overtaking in the contest for the leadership of the 
class, and even for the second honor he sometimes felt 
that Berry would outstrip him. In the fall term Berry 
had won, and in the winter term their standing was the 
same. The victory would turn largely upon the result 
of the work done in the spring term, and both were 
working hard to win, although the best of feeling ex- 
isted between them. 

More than once Ward realized how much he was 
handicapped by his failure to do his work well in the 
preceding year. All his good resolutions and honest 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 


335 


endeavors now could not entirely atone for the defi- 
ciencies caused by his former neglect and failures, but 
he relaxed none of his efforts and studied faithfully 
and regularly. 

That contest for the prize in declamation, from which 
he had been barred in the previous spring, was upper- 
most in his mind now. If he could not win the vale- 
dictory, he at least could contend for that prize, and as 
he well knew that his powers in that line were not slight, 
he was giving much time and attention to his prepara- 
tion for the contest which would occur in the closing 
week of the term. 

His father and mother were again coming up to 
Weston for the closing week, and" Ward’s heart rejoiced 
when he thought of the different feelings they would 
have this year. The memory of the disappointment 
and sorrow of both over his failure then could not be 
entirely banished from his thoughts now, but they 
stirred him up to greater efforts, and he was determined 
to win, if hard work and faithful practice would ac- 
complish the result. 

He selected his declamation early in the term, and 
many were the hours he spent alone in the woods re- 
hearsing his piece. In after years he smiled whenever 
he thought of the patience of those silent trees as their 
leaves slightly rustled, as if they were applauding the ef- 
forts of the young orator to afford them entertainment. 

In the spring term, as in the fall, at Weston, one day 
was set apart as a holiday. In the autumn this day 
was known as Mountain Day, while in the spring it was 


336 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


called Scenery Day, although the purpose of each was 
much the same. 

The boys divided into congenial bands, and with 
their luncheons departed for some of the surrounding 
points in the lofty hills that shut in the beauties of the 
valley, and remained all through the day, the straggling 
parties returning to the school at various times after 
dusk. Some prepared to camp for the night on some 
mountain top, and took with them their blankets and 
food sufficient to last them till the morrow. 

It was the day before the annual spring holiday, and 
Ward and Jack were passing out of Mr. Crane’s room 
together when the teacher summoned them to his desk. 

“What are your plans for to-morrow?’’ said Mr. 
Crane. “I fancy you will not remain in the village.” 

“We haven’t any very definite plan, Mr. Crane,” 
replied Ward. “Jack and I thought we would go off 
somewhere together, but we haven’t decided just where. 
We spent one night on the Hump, and that’s enough. 
Every fellow has to pass one night there before he can 
graduate, the boys all say, and we feel as if we’d lived 
up to the requirements.” 

“Perhaps you wouldn’t like to receive a third mem- 
ber of your party ? They say that two is company and 
three is a crowd. But perhaps that wouldn’t apply in 
this case.” 

“We shouldn’t object,” said Jack. “Though of 
course it would depend somewhat upon the third 
party. ’ ’ 

“It’s this way, boys. I’ve just received two new 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 


337 


fishing rods, and I thought possibly you would like to 
go with me and test them. I haven’t forgotten all the 
places where the trout used to be found when I was a 
boy, and it is quite likely you may never have run 
across them in your rambles. ’ ’ 

“ We should be delighted to have you go with us, or 
rather for us to go with you,” said Ward eagerly. 

“ Very well then,” replied Mr. Crane, “if you don’t 
think the addition of a venerable pedagogue will be too 
heavy an increase to your party, we’ll consider it settled. 
We must start long before sunrise, but I understand 
that arrangements have been made for an early break- 
fast at the boarding house. ’ ’ 

The sun had not yet appeared in sight on the follow- 
ing morning when Ward and Jack, in company with 
Mr. Crane, departed on their long tramp. Jack had 
his own rod, but Ward was glad to accept the teacher’s 
offer and carried one of his new ones. 

A fishing basket was slung over the shoulders of each, 
and food sufficient for the day was provided, and with 
light hearts they walked rapidly on, and soon left the 
school far behind them. 

They stopped to watch the sunrise, and as the light 
crept up the eastern sky and soon flooded the valley, 
the sight was one which reflected the feelings in the 
hearts of all in the little company. 

What a day that was ! The memory of it lingered 
in Ward’s heart. Mr. Crane told stories and joked 
with them, and yet never for a moment did he lay aside 
his quiet dignity. He pointed out to them the wonders 
w 


338 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


of geology, and told marvelous tales of the growth of 
trees and plants. He stopped with them to watch the 
strange insects, and explained the habits of many of the 
birds whose songs could be heard on every side. And 
best of all he led them to the cool places which the trout 
loved, and soon many of the bright speckled beauties 
were stored away in their baskets. 

At noontime they took their seats on the bank of a 
swift-running stream to eat their luncheon. Above 
them the leaves of the trees furnished a thick canopy 
which protected them from the heat of the sun. At 
their feet the clear, sparkling waters of the brook hurried 
past them. The entire scene was impressive in its 
quiet beauty, and the boundless enjoyment of the boys 
was even increased by the vision of the valley which 
stretched away far below them. 

‘ ‘ I never thought there was so much to see in the 
woods,” said Jack at last when the luncheon was 
finished. “ I’ve tramped over these hills hundreds of 
times, but I don’t think I ever used my eyes or ears 
very much before to-day. How did you learn so much, 
Mr. Crane ? ’ ’ 

“There isn’t ‘so much’ of it, I’m afraid,” replied 
Mr. Crane lightly. ‘ ‘ I was fortunate, boys, when I 
was a little lad in having an older sister who was devot- 
edly attached to me. She never seemed to tire of tell- 
ing me about the wonderful things in the world, and 
better still she taught me how to see them for myself. 
I often think of her in the words which the poet Words- 
worth used concerning his own sister : 


A DAY ON THE MOUNTAINS 


339 


“ The blessing of my later years 
Was with me when I was a boy ; 

She gave me eyes, she gave me ears, 

And humble cares, and delicate fears, 

A heart, the fountain of sweet tears, 

And love, and joy, and thought. 

“ There was another one, a Man, who lived years ago, 
who has taught me much also. He used to point his 
listeners to the lily on the hillside, and the grass of the 
field, and the sparrow flitting about in the low trees as 
among the best lessons of the Great Father of us all. 
His one great word was ‘ life ’ and ‘ living.’ It was not 
‘religion,’ as many use the word, but ‘life.’ He 
came, he said, to teach men what true living was, and 
to find it anywhere and everywhere. 1 know he has 
taught me more of life, of how to live, of what to live 
for, than all the others combined. I’m glad to think 
you are learning of him as well as of his world. But 
it’s time we were beginning to move back toward the 
village. ’ ’ 

The boys arose and at once prepared to follow him. 
What a delightful day it had been, Ward thought, 
and how his heart did go out to Mr. Crane ! What 
an inspiration and uplift he was. How glad he was 
that he had come to know him. 

Ward’s heart was glowing with happiness as they 
slowly worked their way, following the noisy brook, and 
fishing on their way down the hillside. It was one of 
the best days in all his life, he thought, and it long re- 
mained as a bright spot to which he was glad to turn. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


JACK HOBART’S PROPOSITION 
HE spring and early summer days almost seemed 



X to rush past Ward Hill, so swiftly did they go. 
Each day was filled with its routine work, and as he 
was working hard to pass Berry in his class, he had little 
inclination or time to devote to outside matters. 

The boy, however, was no book- worm, or “dig,” as 
the Weston boys designated one who was devoted to 
books alone, and the class meetings, frequent now that 
the end of the year was so near, the school life, and the 
companionship of the boys all appealed to him strongly. 

But even stronger than his desire to win a high stand- 
ing in his scholarship was his determination to carry 
off the prize in declamation. In lieu of the ordinary 
‘ 1 graduating exercises, ’ ’ there was each year a contest 
for two prizes, in which all of the seniors and a few of 
the boys in the class below them whose standing was 
sufficiently high were permitted to compete. Prelimi- 
nary contests were held and the number of contestants 
was somewhat decreased before the final trial occurred. 

Ward and Henry already had succeeded in passing 
the first of these trials and were sure of a place on the 
programme for the final and deciding contest. This was 
to occur in the evening of the last day of the term, 


340 


jack hobart’s proposition 341 

and many of the parents and friends of the boys, as 
well as a large number of former students who came 
back to revisit the scenes of their school-days and 
perhaps strive to catch something of the contagion of 
the spirit of life and enthusiasm, were expected to be 
present. Jack Hobart was not to compete for the prize, 
as he had but little ability in that line ; but he was al- 
most as much interested in Ward’s success as he would 
have been in his own. Together they went almost 
every afternoon to one of the secluded spots on the hill- 
sides, and while Ward awakened the echoes by his elo- 
quence, Jack sat by and listened in solemn admiration 
or passed such criticisms as occurred to him, and Ward 
found his friend’ s suggestions frequently of great value. 

Only a week remained now before the prize speaking 
was to take place. Ward and Jack were returning from 
their daily visit to the woods, and as they walked on 
their thoughts naturally reflected their feelings. 

“I don’t know how it is,” Jack was saying, “but 
somehow I have a mighty queer feeling at the close of 
this year. This makes four years I have been in the 
Weston school, and any one would naturally think I’d 
be glad to be out of it. Of course in a way I am, but 
somehow I’m broken up by it too. The first thing I 
do every morning is to take a good look at the Hump. 
The old hill is always there just the same, but I’m half 
afraid every morning to look out for fear he’s hidden 
himself somewhere.” 

“It’s become a part of your life, I fancy,” said 
Ward soberly. ‘ 1 Last year when the end came, it al- 


342 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


most seemed to me as if the mountains here were 
frowning upon me, but this year they seem like steps 
or ladders up to something better. ’ ’ 

“And they are,” said Jack enthusiastically. “I 
suppose we’re somewhat broken up to think the end 
has come and that we’ve got to scatter now. Some of 
the fellows I shan’t feel very bad about leaving, but 
when I think of some of the others, it almost seems to 
me as if I just couldn’t go on without them, and that 
is all there is to it. 

“I wonder if the trees here don’t have something 
of that feeling too. I was just thinking that as we came 
down from the glen, and there by the spring you know 
are two of the highest trees and almost across them an- 
other one has fallen. To me it always seemed as if 
they were trying to hold up a fallen comrade. But he 
was dead just the same.” 

Both boys were silent for moment and were thinking 
of Big Smith. Neither of them had ever felt espe- 
cially drawn to him ; but still he had been a com- 
panion, and to their young hearts his sad death had 
brought the first heavy shadow. 

“ It just seems to me, Ward,” said Jack, breaking in 
suddenly, “as if I couldn’t go on without you. I 
don’t believe, old fellow, you ever realized how much 
you are to me. I never had a brother ; but it seems 
to me, Ward, that if we had both had the same father 
and same mother we couldn’t be more to each other.” 

Jack was evidently affected, and Ward’s heart re- 
sponded to that of his impulsive friend in an instant. 


JACK HOBARTS PROPOSITION 


343 


‘‘I never had a brother either, Speck, but I feel as 
if I had one now." Almost instinctively the boys 
stopped and clasping hands looked earnestly into each 
other’s face. There was something almost sacred in 
the hand-clasp, as if it were a pledge of a lifelong love. 

The love between brother and sister, father and son, 
mother and daughter, husband and wife, are all sacred 
and beautiful, but the love between two boys or young 
men has in it also something that is very nearly sublime. 
God pity the man who has never known what it was to 
have a deep-abiding love for another of his own sex. 
Something is wanting in his make-up to cause such a 
lack, and his life too will never know the fullness of its 
best meaning without that experience. Friends and 
friendship! “A man that hath friends must show 
himself friendly,” wrote a keen observer of men many 
centuries ago. But with a friendship once formed no 
true man ever ought to let anything break in upon it. 

And these lifelong friendships are almost never 
formed in after years. They come, if they come at all, 
in the days of boyhood or young manhood. That is 
the seed-sowing time for friendship, as it is for a good 
many of the other good things of life. 

“I’ve been thinking it over a good deal, Ward,” 
said Jack, “and I talked with my mother about it 
too when she was here. Now you’re going on to col- 
lege and so am I. I don’t want to break up what’s 
been begun between us here if it can be avoided. 
Now you know I did think of going away from home 
to college, and of course I may do that yet, but whatever 


344 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


comes I want to go with you. You can’t tell how you 
have helped me by the fight you’ve made this year. 
I ought to have such a fellow with me all the time. 
There’s no telling what I might do if I had.” 

Ward smiled but made no other reply. Jack’s words 
had stirred him deeply, but he had learned too much 
in the year that was now almost gone to put a very high 
estimate upon the value of the “fight” to which his 
friend referred. 

“What I want to say,” said Jack, “if I can only 
get at it, is, that rather than not be with you I’d be 
glad to go to the college in my own town and have you 
come right there and live in our house all through the 
course. There ! I’ve managed to get it out at last, 
but that’s just exactly what I mean.” 

“You are good to me, Jack,” said Ward slowly. 

“That’s not it, for you’d be the one to confer the 
favor, let me tell you. My mother would be only too 
glad to have you come, for she says that then she’d be 
sure to have me home for a time. She says my ab- 
sence, lo, these many years, has been the only ‘ speck ’ 
on her horizon. Now if you’ll say the word, it’s all 
settled, college, room, chum, and all.” 

“ I hope you won’t think me ungrateful, Jack, but I 
can’ t answer you now, though honestly I don’ t believe 
my father would be willing to accept such a gift. He’ll 
feel proud as a peacock that you thought enough of me 
to make me such an offer, and he’ll appreciate your 
kindness too ; but I don’ t believe you can understand 
just how he feels about some things. He wouldn’t be 


jack hobart’s proposition 345 

quite willing to receive such a favor, I think, unless he 
saw some way of returning it. ’ ’ 

“But he would return it and more,” said Jack 
eagerly. 

“ I don’t just see how.” 

“ By letting you come. Your company, and the in- 
fluence of such a fellow on your humble servant would 
be something which would be more than just a mere 
matter of a gift. We’d be so glad to have you, we’d 
think it a great bargain, and if there’s anything in all 
the world, next to me, my mother loves, it’s a bargain.” 

Ward laughed, but Jack was too much in earnest to 
be turned from his purpose. 

“Let’s go over to Mr. Crane’s room and talk with 
him. Will you do it, Ward ? ” 

“Yes, I’ll go over to his room, but I hope you won’t 
think I don’t appreciate what you’ve said, Jack, if I 
say I can’t settle the matter now, and that I am more 
than half afraid my father won’t agree to it, though I 
know he’ll thank you.” 

“I don’t expect you to give in at once,” said Jack. 
“It’s asking too much. But come on ! We’ll go right 
over to Mr. Crane’s room now.” 

Whatever the impulsive lad wished to do must be 
done at once, and as Ward consented, in a few minutes 
both of them were seated in the teacher’s room. 

“We want to know, Mr. Crane,” said Jack, not 
broaching his project at once, “what you think about 
colleges. We want to get your opinion, if you’re will- 
ing to give it to us.” 


346 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


“What I think about college?” replied Mr. Crane. 
“I thought you understood pretty well what my opinion 
about that was, long before this time. You know I am 
a strong believer in every boy going who can do so with- 
out too great a strain upon his parents. * ’ 

“That isn’t exactly what I mean,” said Jack. “We 
both of us know how you feel about that. But what 
college do you prefer ? ’ ’ 

“That depends. I prefer some colleges for certain 
boys and should advise others to go to different ones. 
It is impossible to formulate a fixed rule for every case. ” 
“ But which is better, a large college or small? ” 
“Again, that depends,” replied Mr. Crane with a 
smile. “ If a boy has means, and his character is fairly 
well developed when he goes so that he will not be 
likely to be lost in the crowd, undoubtedly he can gain 
certain advantages in some of the larger colleges he 
never could find in the smaller. Their larger endow- 
ments and better equipments are certainly no small 
matter to be considered. On the other hand, if a boy 
is somewhat diffident and immature and needs bring- 
ing out more than he needs to be filled, doubtless he 
would do better in a small college. There is more 
of the personal contact there between the student and 
his teachers, and his own individual needs are looked 
to much better. In general, I may say if what a boy 
needs is the development of himself, the smaller college 
will do more for him. If what he needs is not so much 
the bringing out of himself as the filling up, the larger 
college is the place for him. ’ ’ 


jack hobart’s proposition 347 

“That places Jack and me in two different classes, 
then,” said Ward. 

“I am not so sure of that,” replied Mr. Crane. 

“ You have both of you been away to school now, and • 
have been thrown back upon yourselves. You have 
learned to depend upon your own efforts, and I do not 
regard it as in the least probable that either of you 
would be swallowed up and lost in the crowd in a large 
college. It is no slight advantage to have had two 
years at Weston before you go.” 

“ I wish we could keep right on at Weston, and not 
have to go anywhere else,” said Jack. 

“No, I hardly think you really wish that, Hobart. 

Of course, now that you are about to leave us you 
forget all the unpleasant things and remember only 
the pleasant ones. I would not have it otherwise, 
and trust that some of us will still be a part of your 
lives, even when you are apart from us. But when 
one becomes a man he is compelled to leave childish 
things. All that you have been doing has been leading 
up to this time, and now you must face it. ’ * 

“Of course I know that must be so,” said Jack 
quietly, “and I suppose if we really thought we should 
have to come back we wouldn’t like it a little bit. But 
what I really wanted to know, Mr. Crane, was what you 
thought about Ward coming down and living with me 
in my home and going to college there with me.” 

Ward’s face flushed slightly, and he added : “Jack 
hasn’t told it all. What he wants is for me to live with 
him and not to pay anything for the privilege. ’ ’ 


348 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

“That isn’t ” began Jack. 

Mr. Crane interrupted him and said : “I think I 
understand; but it’s a question in which I fancy others 
besides you boys may be interested. ’ ’ 

“That’s just it,” said Jack quickly. “ My mother 
wants him even more than I do.” 

“But there’s my father to be thought of too,” said 
Ward. “ He may not want me to do it.” 

4 ‘ Precisely, ’ ’ said Mr. Crane. ‘ ‘ That’ s a question I 
cannot answer. You see I am the one being examined 
now, and you are the examiners ; and I have failed. ’ ’ 

“There’s some hope for me then if the teachers 
themselves fail,” said Jack laughingly. 

‘ ‘ Personally I never had that feeling others describe 
as being unwilling to accept a favor, ’ ’ said Mr. Crane. 
“Few of these so-called ‘favors’ are all on one side. 
They are almost always a species of ‘give and take.’ 
However, I am no judge for others, and sometimes 
think I have more than I can do to look after myself. 
I shall be interested to learn your decision.” 

The boys departed, and soon after went to their own 
rooms with the problem still unsolved. 

Ward was deeply touched by Jack’s offer and his 
eagerness for him to accept it. If he should do so, he 
well knew what a load would be lifted from his father’s 
shoulders, but still he thought he understood what his 
father’s decision would be. 

The few remaining days of the term now rapidly 
came. Ward was working busily and the visits to the 
glen with Jack increased. He was more anxious than 


jack hobart’s proposition 349 

he cared to show about the prize for declamation, but 
his anxiety only served to increase his labors. Henry 
was to compete also, but somehow the boys did not often 
refer to the contest in the other’s presence. The best of 
feeling prevailed, but both were eager to win, although 
if either lost he sincerely desired the other to win. 

On Monday, the visitors in the village began rapidly 
to increase. “Old boys,” as the students called the 
former students, many of them now gray-haired men 
and coming up to Weston with their own sons or grand- 
sons, arrived by every stage. The parents and sisters, 
and brothers of the graduating class also came, and the 
beauty of the little village was greatly enhanced by the 
bright apparel of the girls and the interested groups of 
the visitors who wandered about among the school 
buildings or along the wide streets. 

When Ward’s father and mother came, the welcome 
they received from him was far different from that he 
had given them in the preceding year. He was all eager- 
ness, and his happiness was so apparent that it speedily 
became contagious, and as he brought the boys up to 
meet his father and mother his heart was overflowing as 
he heard the warm words for him on almost every side. 

On Tuesday night the contest for the prize in dec- 
lamation was to be held. As the hour approached 
Ward’s excitement became greater, although his out- 
ward calm was not disturbed. A great audience assem- 
bled to listen to the boys, and at last Doctor Gray, who 
presided, advanced to the front of the platform to an- 
nounce the first speaker of the evening. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


CONCLUSION 

W ARD, with the other speakers, was waiting in 
the rear of the platform, but the printed pro- 
gramme informed each when his time was to come, and 
so each was striving to possess his soul in patience. 

Berry was the first to be called, and as Ward peered 
out at him as he advanced to the front of the platform, 
bowed gracefully to Dr. Gray, and then turned to face 
the audience, he almost envied him his self-possession 
and ease. 

Soon, however, the boy was speaking, and as he 
went on even Ward felt deeply interested in what he 
was saying. When his declamation was ended and a 
storm of applause broke forth, Ward felt as if there was 
little use in trying to compete with Berry, and as he re- 
joined his companions in the rear of the platform Ward 
was the first to congratulate him upon his success. 

And his expressions were genuine and hearty too, for 
while Ward with all his heart desired to win the prize, 
he had now no feeling of bitterness toward his com- 
petitors. 

Ripley was the next speaker, but Ward at once per- 
ceived that he was far below Berry in his hold upon the 
audience, and indeed among those who followed only 
35o 


CONCLUSION 351 

Pond seemed in any way likely to be a close competitor 
for the prize. 

Ward’s name was the last on the list, and when he 
heard his name announced and walked slowly forward, 
he was somehow conscious that the audience was be- 
coming somewhat wearied and restless. 

His appearance, however, served to arouse the 
younger portion at least, and a faint murmur of ap- 
plause was heard as he bowed low to his hearers. This 
was quickly hushed and Ward for the first time looked 
directly at his audience. 

He was conscious only of an indiscriminate mass of 
faces at first all turned toward him. It seemed to him 
as if he must have more air. His breath would not 
come and he felt as if he were choking. For a mo- 
ment every sentence of his declamation departed and 
he could not recall even the first and opening words. 

His momentary hesitation was not noticed or per- 
haps perceived by his audience, however, or it may 
have been that they considered his hesitancy as only a 
deliberate movement on his part. , It seemed to the 
frightened boy as if something were clutching him by 
the throat. Everything turned black before him, and 
he almost felt that he must cry aloud in his misery. 
Abject failure seemed to stare him in the face. 

Suddenly he caught sight of Mr. Crane seated about 
half-way back in the audience, and then right near him 
were his father and mother and Jack. The last was 
leaning forward and regarding him with breathless in- 
terest, and the sight instantly restored Ward’s self-pos- 


352 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


session. The words of his declamation instantly flashed 
into his mind and in a low, clear voice he began to 
speak. 

All his previous confusion which to him had seemed 
to cover hours, had in reality lasted but a moment, and 
as has been said, was not noted by his audience. But 
as soon as he heard the sound of his own voice all his 
“stage fright” was forgotten and his whole soul was in 
his immediate task. Yet out of all the audience Ward 
seemed to be aware only of the presence of Mr. Crane. 
To him he was speaking, and almost as if he was to be 
the deciding judge he addressed himself to the teacher. 
Whenever he changed his position or faced other por- 
tions of the assembly he saw no one distinctly and soon 
returned to his favorite teacher. To him he spoke, for 
him he exerted himself, his praise was to be his exceed- 
ing great reward. 

And Ward Hill threw himself without reserve into 
his speaking. It seemed to him as if every word was 
his own, and he must make his hearers see what he saw 
and believe as he believed. The audience became 
more and more silent, and almost no one removed his 
eyes from the eager, animated, manly-appearing boy. 

As he went on his eagerness increased and the inter- 
est of his hearers increased also. Ward almost forgot 
every one except Mr. Crane, and as he felt rather than 
saw the intense interest of his teacher, he responded to 
it instantly. There was no hesitation, no faltering, no 
lack of words now. His face was glowing, his move- 
ments animated, and his every gesture counted. 


CONCLUSION 


353 


When at last he had finished and paused a moment 
before he made his final bow, there was a silence in the 
room that was most intense. But the instant he turned 
to depart from the platform the pent-up feelings of the 
audience broke forth and a storm of applause followed 
him which continued long after he had rejoined his 
competitors behind the scenes. 

“You did nobly, Ward,” said Pond eagerly, as he 
grasped the hand of the flushed and excited boy. 
“ Not much show for us, is there, Berry? ” he added, 
as Berry pressed forward to add his congratulations. 

“I’m afraid not, ’ ’ replied Berry. ‘ ‘ I never heard 
any one do better, Ward.’’ 

They all instantly became silent as Dr. Gray arose to 
speak. He spoke some warm words of praise for the 
work which had been done that year, referred feelingly 
to the death which had broken in upon the ranks of the 
students, and then announced the honors of the gradu- 
ating class. 

Pond stood at the head, and although the audience 
applauded heartily, the announcement created little in- 
terest, as the popular boy’s position had been a for- 
gone conclusion. Berry was second and Ward was 
third. The applause which followed had hardly begun 
before Ward rushed forward to congratulate the boys 
who had outstripped him. 

“ Lucky for us, Ward, that you didn’t work last year 
as you have this. I’m afraid we wouldn’t have stood 
a very good chance if you had, ’ ’ said Pond. 

Ward laughed as he said : “To tell the truth, boys, 
x 


354 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


I should be glad to have stood first, of course, but 
there was not much chance for me with the load I had 
to carry. Perhaps I learned more, though, by my fail- 
ures than I would have if I had worked as hard last 
year as I have this. The wound is healed but the scar 
is left, you see. But honestly, fellows, I’m glad you 
are the ones to go ahead if I couldn’t.” 

“ Hush, boys ! Here comes the committee to report 
their decision, ’ ’ said Berry. 

The suspense and interest were manifest in the hush 
which fell over all as the chairman of the committee 
who was to award the prize for the best declamation 
now returned to the platform and signified his readiness 
to make the report. 

As in duty bound the man first referred to his own 
school days in Weston, now far back in the years, and 
noted the many changes which had taken place. Then 
he went on to speak in glowing terms of the exercises of 
the evening, and when he came to the remark which 
almost every chairman had made for years, that ‘ ‘ sel- 
dom from any college platform had he heard better 
speaking, ’ ’ a smile crept over the faces of many who 
heard him. 

“And now,” resumed the speaker, “we are to re- 
port on the exercises of this evening. If it had been 
in our power we should have been glad to award the 
first place to every boy on the programme, much as Arte- 
mus Ward made each man in his company a brigadier 
general. But as that is impossible, we are compelled 
to do the next best thing and use our judgment in se- 


CONCLUSION 355 

lecting the speaker who seems best entitled to the 
award and to the reward.” 

“Bother his long speeches,” said Berry in a low 
voice. “ Why can’t he say what he has to say and be 
done with it ? ” 

The three boys were standing together just out of the 
sight of the audience, and with breathless interest were 
peering forward and listening to the speaker. 

“As to the award of the first prize, there has not 
been much difference of opinion.” 

The man was speaking again and the boys at once . 
became silent and intent upon his words. 

“We have decided that the first prize, in view of the 
points we have marked, namely : forcefulness, clearness 
of enunciation, gracefulness, and self-possession, and 
the interpretation of the piece, belongs to — Ward 
Hill.” 

The words had hardly been uttered before a loud 
burst of applause broke forth from the audience. Jack 
in his enthusiasm stood up on his seat and threw his 
hat into the air, but a quiet touch by Mr. Crane re- 
called him to the proprieties of the occasion. The ap- 
plause, however, was long continued and hearty, and 
showed that plainly the assembly concurred in the de- 
cision. 

Ward felt the blood surge up in his face and as Berry 
patted him upon the shoulder, and Pond’s glance be- 
trayed his feeling, Ward felt that never before had he 
been so happy. 

“The second prize,” resumed the chairman as the 


356 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


audience at last became quiet, “has been a little more 
difficult to award. The nearly equal excellence of two 
of the speakers has led us at last to divide the prize. 
The second prize is therefore awarded to Lucius Berry 
and Frederick Pond.” 

Again the applause broke forth, genuine and long 
continued, and was redoubled when the three boys 
advanced to receive their prizes. 

Ward glanced down at his father and mother and as 
he plainly saw them stealthily wiping their eyes, he 
felt a suspicious moisture creeping into his own. How 
different it all was from the close of the preceding year ! 
It had been a long, hard struggle, but he had been well 
repaid in the happiness which had come to his parents, 
and in which he fully shared. 

He was only partially aware of what followed. He 
knew that the audience had been dismissed and that 
many of the boys crowded about him with their words 
of congratulation and praise. He heard Mr. Crane’s 
quiet words of praise too, and the warm grasp of the 
hand which was the sole expression of his father at the 
time was inexpressibly dear to him. His heart seemed 
to be overflowing and the long-continued effort of the 
year had brought him its reward ; far more than the 
prize he had received was the satisfaction of having 
faced his difficulties and conquered in the struggle. 

At last all the audience was gone, and Jack and 
Ward started slowly up the street together. 

“It’s been a great night,” said Jack; “and, Ward, 
you have done nobly. Everybody is proud of you. 


CONCLUSION 357 

But do you know, I’m not thinking of the prize you 
took. ’ * 

“What are you thinking of?” said Ward quietly. 
His own mind had not been dwelling upon the prize 
either. 

“I was thinking of the way in which you have faced 
the school, the work, and yourself, this year. I think I 
know something of what it has cost you. It’s been a 
big price, but it was worth it. ’ ’ 

Ward made no reply, although his heart responded 
warmly to his friend’s words. He thought he too knew 
what he had lost and what he had gained ; but he 
could not speak of either. 

“Now, Ward,” resumed Jack, “you’ve had a 
chance to talk with your father. What does he say 
about my proposition for next year ? ’ ’ 

“Jack, old fellow, he was deeply touched, but he 
doesn’t think it will do.’’ 

“ Is he afraid to have you with me?” 

“No, no ; not a bit. That isn’t it, but he wants me 
to go to another college.’’ Ward did not refer to the 
other fact of which he was well aware, that his father 
was not willing for him to accept so great a favor at the 
hands of another, when he had no means of return- 
ing it. 

“That’s all right, then,” said Jack; “but you 
haven’t got rid of me yet. I’m going where you go, 
and I’m going with you too. Wouldn’t it be a fine 
thing if Luscious and Henry and you and I could get 
some rooms together ? Then, if Pond and one or two 


358 


WARD HILL THE SENIOR 


of the other fellows could go up to the same college 
we’d be all fixed out, wouldn’t we ? Say, Ward, let’s fix 
that up, will you ? ’ ’ And all of the eagerness and im- 
pulsiveness of Jack’s nature seemed to find expression 
in his words. 

“It would be fine,” replied Ward. “We’ll have to 
talk that up.” 

The few remaining days of the closing week passed 
rapidly, and to Ward it seemed as if he were almost in a 
dream. The attentions he received, the words of love 
and praise spoken by nearly every one, his pride in his 
success, and above all the satisfaction in his own soul, 
arising from the consciousness that he had done his 
best, were with him all the time. 

The last interview with Mr. Crane affected him 
deeply. He and Jack went up together for the parting, 
and it seemed to them as if the quiet dignity and 
warm heart of the loved teacher were never more 
apparent. 

“ It’s a sad break in some ways to us who are to re- 
main,” said Mr. Crane. “You can’t understand it, 
but it seems to me as if you were my younger broth- 
ers, and the home life was being broken. There will 
be something lacking next year. Not that we shall 
not have other boys whom we shall love and in 
whom we shall be interested, but they will not fully 
take the . place of those who have left. Weston is all 
the home I know and perhaps shall ever know, and 
while I never may have any boys of my own, I trust 


CONCLUSION 359 

you will always let me feel at least like an older brother 
to each of you.” 

“Mr. Crane, we owe everything to you,” said Ward 
with shining eyes. 

“ If I have aided you, then pay the debt by aiding 
others,” replied Mr. Crane softly. “Weston is only 
a stopping-place, not the end of the journey, and there 
is work for you to do. Some one else needs the help- 
ing hand, and yours I know will not be held back. I 
shall want to hear from you often and shall follow you 
with interest as long as I live. Whatever else you may 
become, I know you will be men / ” 

“ I trust so,” said Ward, and when for the last time 
he grasped Mr. Crane’s hand and returned the pressure, 
his eyes were moist and his heart went out to the noble 
teacher with a great love, which never ended. 

Even Mr. Blake was visited by the boys that night, 
and much of their dislike for him was forgotten in the 
fullness of their hearts. All the world looked bright 
and there was no room for anything but peace and 
good-will to all men. 

When the class took their seats in the semicircle of 
chairs arranged on the campus, and met in accordance 
with the long established custom of the school for their 
last “sing,” one chair had been left empty. Big 
Smith’s name was not mentioned, but the sad break in 
their ranks had left its influence over all. 

On the following day, the last good-byes were spoken 
and they knew as they started for their homes, that the 
end of their lives and work at Weston had come. 


360 WARD HILL THE SENIOR 

The peaceful valley, bathed in the sunlight of the early 
summer morning, smiled upon them. Around it were 
the hills, the everlasting hills, which would beam upon 
the coming generations of boys, who might never know 
of the struggles and triumphs, the failures and success 
of Ward Hill ; but as for the last time he looked back 
upon the familiar scenes he felt that in a peculiar sense 
they were his own personal possessions. He might 
not return to them, but they would not depart from 
him. 

“ We’ll meet again,” said Jack when the school 
cheer had been given for the last time on the platform 
of the little station at Dorrfield. 

Were his words true ? Certainly in the college days 
there was ample opportunity to test the truthfulness of 
his prophecy, and as a record of those days has been 
kept as well as of the visits to the old familiar scenes 
at Weston, perhaps some of our readers may be suf- 
ficiently interested to desire to follow their fortunes 
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